McGee's Big Secret
by Tibki
Summary: A particular case threatens to go cold within hours... or will it? Just how long has McGee been keeping secrets from the others? Trust me, it's not what you're thinking. 9 chappies, including epi and pro. Slight McAbby. Read and reveiw, plz? T for cuss.
1. Pro: Thack and Emily? Try Tim and Sarah!

**to those of you who completely flipped out when they saw that i'd done something with this story- sorry. i've hit a block lately and, just for the fun of it, asked one of my many friends to read this over for me. being my friend, she said that it was full of grammar mistakes and that it wasn't exactly written out very well.**

**when i pointed out the wonderful reviews and things you guys left for me, she simply left the room.**

**so now i have taken it upon myself to make McGee's Big Secret better, faster, stronger, and all around better (yes i said it twice) so i can rub her face in it that i can write better than she thinks. (i don't actually hold her criticism against her-we've known each other for like 6 years and are both fine with dissing each other as much as possible. we're polar opposites, but still love each other at the end of the day.)**

**again, for you new readers, had to remake the ending to Hocus Pocus to fit the plot line. i have already slapped my own wrist for that, since it was such a good movie.**

**disclaimer: No ownage on my part.**

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Prologue:

"Where's Binx?" Dani asked as she looked around the gravestones. There was a time in her life when she wouldn't go near a cemetery for fear of zombies rising from the dead and chasing her—while her nightmare had come true, it had also proven to her that not all zombies were bad. Billy Bones had already been laid down to rest, along with her once-irrational-and-now-completely-rational-fear.

"Binx! Binx, where are you?" The three kids spread out across the graveyard, looking around ever headstone and grave marker in the area. There was no sign of the black cat, until…

"Guys… over here."

The midnight feline was lying on a soft patch of moss, his head on top of a smooth grey rock that was placed just below an ancient headstone. None of them noticed the name carved into the stone, "Emily Binx", they were too preoccupied over their quiet, deathly still friend.

"Binx!" Dani cried, falling to her knees next to the cat. "Oh, no, Binx, Please don't die, you can't die!" She put her arms on the little body, trying to shake life into it as her tears hit the black fur. "Please come back, Binx, you can't die, remember? You _can't!"_

No matter how hard or how long she shook, however, the animal didn't move. It was a few minutes before the girl finally turned into her brother's shoulder, thoroughly soaking it with salty tears. Max had two girls crying on his shoulders, and while normally would've been bragging about it for weeks, couldn't keep his gaze from Binx. He gently rubbed both Dani's and Allison's backs, knowing that he would help more by simply being there than by talking.

It was about 6 when they finally left the graveyard, leaving the small body by his sister's grave, after saying one final farewell to him and pushing some dirt and wood over Billy's own grave.

The benches outside the Salem Graveyard had held many people—hopeless and empty people who were once lovers and now grievers, waiting for their turn to be buried, next to their loved one; people wishing for the quiet serenity of the cemetery; or people waiting for a bus. Now one held 3 grieving kids, ignored by those passing by in cars and on sidewalks. Max was again quiet as Allison, who had managed to pull herself together, tried to comfort his little sister, who hadn't left her brother's side.

"Dani…" She cleared her throat, willing her voice not to crack. "Binx… he was old. He wanted to go. He's in a better place, he's with Emily now." That, at the least, _barely_ slowed the tears. "And he went the way he would've wanted to go… like a hero."

"He died a man," Max added, remembering their conversation earlier that night… had it really only been a few hours ago? "Dani, he died for us, for all the kids in the _world_."

"Actually," a very familiar voice, barely hinted with a trace of an early world accent, said from beside them, "I didn't, really."

All three of them turned their heads. A boy a little older than Max, dressed in a loose cotton shirt and brown leggings, was leaning up against the cast-iron fence, flashing brilliant white teeth at them. His bright green eyes were dancing in laughter, partially hidden by overgrown brown hair. "Binx?" Dani squeaked in shock. "Is that… _you_?"

"In the flesh," the boy replied, grinning wider. "Again."

"Binx!" she shrieked, letting go of her brother and full on tackling Binx. The 16-year old laughed at the force of the hug, pulling her closer. "You're ok! You're really alive! I knew you couldn't die, it's impossible, I mean, you're almost 316 years old, you can last a little while longer, right?"

He laughed. "For you Dani, I think I can. But it's not impossible anymore." He met Max and Allison's eyes and smiled. "The witches are finally, truly dead."

"So you're not going to somehow transform into a cat again?" blonde asked, half-joking.

"Of course not," Binx shook his head. "Their spells died with them. _All_ of their spells."

"All?" Max repeated frowning.

"Well, first off, I'm no longer an immortal black cat," Binx laughed," second, your parents aren't dancing anymore, and third…"

"Thackery?" a little girl's sharp voice called from the graveyard. "Thackery Binx, where art thou?" Dani pulled away, surprised, as Binx burst into the brightest grin yet. A small 6-year-old passed through the gates, glaring at all four of them with eyes that looked exactly like Binx's. The girl was clothed in a long white dress, like Binx's shirt made longer.

"There you are, I was beginning to wonder if you had left without me," Emily Binx said haughtily, striding over to her brother's side, her glare not leaving any of their faces.

Suddenly, she punched her older brother's side so hard he winced and covered the area with his hand. "That was for worrying me, you good for nothing little butthead!"

"Little?" Binx repeated, smirking. "Look at the pot call the kettle black, munchkin!" She punched him once more, before wrapping her arms around his waist. "And what would Mother and Father say if they heard thee use that sort of language?"

"They would agree with me and use far worse words," she shot back, earning a hair ruffle from him. "I missed thee, Thack."

"And I you, Emily," he replied. "Max, Allison, Dani, this is my younger sister, Emily. Em, these are the people who brought the Sandersons—and thou—back."

She met Max's eyes and humphed. "I am not sure whether to hug thee or hit thee."

The three kids stared at the pair, silent. Neither Allison nor Max knew how to react to this, but luckily, Dani covered all bases with her "Whoa! You're really Binx's sister? That's awesome!"

Sarah grinned at the older girl's squeal. "I am glad thy think so," Emily answered. "Sometimes I am not so sure if _I_ do."

Binx frowned as Allison and Max tried to hide smiles. "Yeah, I know how you feel," Dani nodded sympathetically. "Sometimes I wonder if older brothers are just idiots meant to annoy the crap out of their little sisters."

"Hey!" both Binx and Max protested, earning a giggle from Allison and Dani. Emily looked at the two, her eyebrows knitting.

"Hay?" she repeated, confused. "We aren't in a barn, there is no hay here."

Binx groaned, shaking his head. "No, Emily, hey, as in h-e-y. It's a word a person says when they want to catch someone's attention, or greet them, or stop them from doing or saying something."

The little girl humphed, crossing her arms over her chest. "I hate what people have done to the English language."

"Well, you're gonna have to get used to it," Dani told the younger girl, throwing her arm around her shoulders. "Don't worry, me and Mom'll teach ya all about how to say stuff in the nineties."

"I _do_ know how to say things in the Nineties," Emily replied smoothly. "Just not _these_ Nineties. If it were 1693, then 'twould be _thee_ taking grammar lessons, not I."

Both Max and Binx glanced at each other as Dani replied, "Yeah, but it's _not_ 1693, it's 1993. Trust me, you're gonna like it here, Em, I've got all this really cool stuff in my room. My parents bought me a _computer!_"

"A computer?" Emily asked, her eyes wide. "Is it very smart?" Dani nodded. "I'd love to see…"

"Er, guys," Max interrupted. "Slight problem here." Dani looked up at him, confused. "Dan, I don't think we'll be able to take Binx and Emily… home."

"What? Why not?" Dani looked torn. "Mom and Dad'll understand, we've just gotta tell 'em…"

"But I _want_ to go!" Emily said at the same time. "Please, Thack?"

"Dani, Emily, think about this," Binx insisted. "If you hadn't gone through this, would you believe it?" Dani shrugged, but Emily nodded eagerly. "Emily, adults today are different from when we were born. They won't automatically believe in magic just because a few kids say that there were witches. They've learned from the Salem Witch Hunt."

"They don't believe in magic?" Emily repeated, surprised. "But… how would they explain all the bad things happening to people? Disease?"

"Tiny little bacteria that make people sick," Allison explained gently.

"A person born with hemophilia?"

"Genes."

"Bad luck?"

Allison opened her mouth, then closed it. "There's no scientific reason for that," she admitted, "that's just by chance. Look, Emily, that doesn't matter. We can't tell anyone about what happened."

"Why not?" she asked again.

"They'll never believe us, for one," Max offered. "And second, they'll probably call us crazy and send us to an asylum."

"Oh. But…"

"And there's a difference between adopting a stray cat," Max added quickly, "and adopting two kids. No offense, dude."

"None taken," Binx nodded, smiling. It quickly faded, however. "But then, where are we to go?"

"You'll probably get taken in by the orphanage," Dani admitted glumly. "Why can't we just let them stay with us, Max, Mom and Dad don't have to know!"

"Dani, they'll notice and then ream us for lying!" The 8-year-old crossed her arms and pouted. "Don't give me that face, Danielle Dennison."

Allison gave a small smile, then finally spoke up. "I think I have an idea."

* * *

"Allison, are you sure about this?" her mother asked, looking at the couple sitting on the other side of the one-way glass. "I mean, what if they don't like each other?"

The older woman had quickly grown attached to the strange children that had shown up with her daughter the day after Halloween. Binx and Emily were both charming kids, though it was hard to believe they were related, with such different personalities. Binx was a shy, happy-go-lucky boy who devoured books like they were chocolate bars. Emily was a fiery little ball of pure spunk, yet polite at the same time.

"They'll match, Mom. Don't worry." Allison looked over at her new boyfriend and nodded to him.

Max smiled back, then motioned for Thackery and Emily to enter the other room. The siblings did as they were told, Emily striding forward bravely with Thackery beside her.

The couple sitting in the interview room were Mr. and Mrs. McGee, in Salem on vacation and to visit their cousins—Allison's parents. The man was a commander in the Navy, straight-backed and proud, but with soft green eyes. His wife was small, fitting his large frame, but had a fire in her eyes that even Emily couldn't match. They'd recently discovered that she wasn't able to have children and had jumped at the chance to adopt not one, but two kids.

When Emily came into the room, both of them came to their feet, looking over them. For a few minutes the two pairs simply stared at each other. The tension in the other room could've been cut with a knife. Allison and her mother were quietly praying. Max was holding Dani's hand—she was crossing the fingers on her other.

Finally, Mrs. McGee came forward and knelt in front of the 6-year-old. "Hello," she said, giving a smile that she hoped was warm. "I'm Julia."

Emily looked at her and said the first thing that came to mind. "I'm Sarah."

Thackery looked down at his sister, more in surprise than shock. She'd always said that she'd hated her first name and preferred her middle, but introducing herself by it? To a pair of strangers?

Max and Allison shared a look. _What in the name of God?_

"Nice to meet you, Sarah," Mrs. McGee said, reaching out to take the girl's hand. More out of instinct than anything else, Thackery put an arm around her shoulders.

Julia reeled back, but "Sarah" rolled her eyes, shrugging his arms off. "Calm down, Tim," she said, slapping his leg. "For God's sake, it's not like they're gonna shoot us."

She'd taken to modern slang better than she'd taken to ice cream.

"So your name is Tim?" Commander McGee asked, raising a silver eyebrow. Binx looked up to the man's warm green eyes and held the gaze.

"Yessir," he replied, a little too stiffly. "Timothy."

The Commander nodded curtly, then smiled. Tim did a double take. The creased, lined, stone-like face had completely changed with his smile. A tiny sliver of white teeth showed beneath his green… _proud?_ eyes.

"You love your little sister, Tim?"

"Yessir," he replied.

"You want to protect her, right?" Tim nodded. "Well then." He held out a hand. "Navy Commander Wilson McGee, at your service."

Tim looked up at the man and managed a small smile. "Likewise, sir."

"Don't call me sir, son." Tim blinked at the use of the word, then started to smile. "I may be an officer, but I don't sit around all day watching ships float by."

"O-ok. Then, what should I call you?"

Sarah rolled her eyes and slapped his leg again. Tim winced, glaring at the little girl.

"Call him Dad, you dimwit!"

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**since i already have the chapters up, and since it may take more than a day to rewrite these things, i can no longer promise one a day. however, i will try as much as i can to get it as soon as i can... barring horrible injury, death, and/or school tests.**

**PEACE~Tibki**


	2. The Lost Bet and the Binxsons

**whoot! i made it! i've been re-reading what i wrote and, surprise surprise, i'm having second thoughts about how it was written. so i decided to re-write parts of it... which means the whole second half in Tibki-speak. i promised myself i'd make it, and keep my one update a day promise, so here it is.**

**muchas gracias to smartkid37 for being the first to review!**

**Disclaimer- n! o! t! (space)! m! i! n! e! what does that spell? not mine!**

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17 Years Later- NCIS HQ:

Probationary Agent Ziva David, formerly of Mossad and currently of NCIS, had been trained on how to react to many things in life. Some are fairly basic: in event of a bomb, duck and cover. Others are more complicated, like what to do when you're actually planting said bomb and it activates hours before the target arrives, 3 inches from your face.

She'd been through several sorts of situations, from swimming past hippos and crocs in the Nile River to escape Egyptian police with the late Jenny Shepard to jumping from a speeding green train into a snowdrift in Russia.

When she'd come to NCIS, she'd had to quickly learn how to deal with a certain Anthony DiNozzo and a Leroy Jethro Gibbs. That had been one of the harder things she'd had to go through—dealing with Gibbs while attempting not to strangle DiNozzo—but nothing could've prepared her for this.

When the elevator had dinged, she had expected to see Tony; it was 20 minutes after the start of the day and she and McGee were already at work. That was always his cue.

What she hadn't expected was to see him come in clothes that belonged in the 1700s.

Anthony DiNozzo had shed the Armani suits and shirts today and had opted for a rough wool shirt that fit loosely over him and what looked suspiciously like leggings instead. There was a belt pulling the shirt against his waist and…

"Is that… a bow and quiver on your back?" she asked, her eyebrows raised. DiNozzo scowled, dumping his backpack on the floor next to his desk. McGee turned up and laughed at his partner's dress. "Why do you look like you came to work in a time machine from the 1700s?"

"Because I love the feel of wool on my back," he returned sarcastically. "I lost a bet with one of my old college buddies, ok?"

"What was the bet?"

"The first one to pick up a girl at the bar got to decide what the other had to do. I would've gotten him to climb a telephone pole naked, but he had so many Sam Adams that he decided I had to dress up like I lived in 1700s."

"Well, you failed," McGee told him, smiling. They turned to him. "This time of year they wore cotton, not wool, so they wouldn't sweat so hard. You can tell the belt's fake, those leggings belong in the Middle Ages—I don't really want to know where you got them from, actually—and almost no one used a bow and arrow. They had guns, muskets, actually."

"How do you know?" Tony snapped, annoyed. "You don't exactly look 300 years old, McKnow-It-All."

"So your "DiNozzo Charm" failed so badly?" Ziva wondered, changing the subject and grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

"No!" Tony turned his nasty mood on her. "He cheated. He had to have. She was already his girlfriend, I know it. There's no other way he could've…"

"Gear up," Gibbs said, coming in from McGee's side. "Dead girl at Arlington."

"Arlington?" both Ziva and McGee repeated. "Why do we have the case?"

"Killer left us a calling card," he replied, the looked up at DiNozzo. A few seconds of silence passed before he opened his mouth, closed it, shook his head and went for the elevator.

* * *

Arlington Cemetery:

The girl couldn't have been more than nine years old. Her blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail, though she was wearing a set of matching pajamas. She would've looked asleep, if she was breathing or had any sort of color in her face.

She was propped against an old headstone, leaning slightly to her right, her bangs falling into her face. On the ground in front of her, the grass was singed into four letters: _NCIS._

Ducky was at her side, brushing the loose strands of hair behind her ear. "Oh, my poor girl, don't worry, we shall find whoever did this to you." He looked around the cemetery. "Mr. Palmer, are you ready with that gurney yet?"

"Al-almost, doctor," came a shouted reply. Jimmy was having trouble unloading it with all the gravestones around the van. Ducky had driven this time.

"Whaddya got, Duck?" Gibbs asked, crouching beside him. He'd already barked at Ziva to sketch and shoot, Tony to bag and tag, and for McGee to ID her and handle any witnesses since Tony would probably take their attentions of the case.

"I just arrived Jethro, you can't expect me to simply pull cause of death out of the air!" the ME protested. "I can tell you, however," he added, pulling the thermometer out of the girl's liver, "that she died between midnight and 0100 hours last night. And what were you doing out here at that hour, hmm?" he asked the body. "Well past your bedtime, my guess."

"That's what we're gonna find out, Duck," Gibbs told him. "Any guesses to COD?"

"No visible wounds," he reported, moving her slightly, "no blood, no vomit to suggest something she consumed, no bruises… except on her shins here. But I'd venture that is from soccer or some other sport, though I could be wrong. Her lips aren't blue from poison… I would assume that she died of asphyxiation due to something covering her mouth and nose, but I'll only be able to tell you for certain when we get her back to autopsy."

Palmer finally arrived with the gurney, and stopped when he saw the body. "Oh," he said quietly, surprised. "She's…"

"Young," Ducky finished sadly. "Unfortunately, yes. Very much so. You had your whole life in front of you, didn't you, my dear?"

"Who found her?" Gibbs asked.

"Groundskeeper," Ziva replied. "McGee is over there, talking to him." She pointed at the two men on the other side of the crime scene tape around the area. As expected, there were a few onlookers watching them work and even a news crew.

What they weren't expecting was a blonde woman who couldn't have been more than 20 came out of the crowd. She looked like the girl on the headstone, right down to the bright green eyes and slightly jutting chin.

"Janie?" she asked, looking around. "Janie, where are you…? Janie? No, NO!" She started running for the crime scene. Every eye turned to watch as McGee ran and stopped her just before she crossed the tape. "JANICE! NO, NOT MY SISTER!"

"Ma'am, calm down, please," McGee begged, holding her back.

"That's my sister!" she screamed, trying to pull away. "That's my baby sister! Janice, no!"

"Ma'am!" he shouted, getting her attention. The woman's suddenly tear-streaked face turned to him. "I need you to calm down for a second, alright? NCIS. I'm Special Agent McGee."

"N-NCIS?"

"Naval Criminal Investigative Services," he nodded. "Can I ask your name?"

"Em-Emily Binxson," she replied. "Wh-why is NCIS here, Janie wasn't anywhere near old enough to be in the Navy!"

McGee turned around to glance at the others. Ziva and Tony were watching with some mild interest. Ziva in what was going on; Tony in the girl.

When the name registered in his name, he literally took a step back. "Emily Binxson?" he repeated. She nodded. Wild ideas flying through his mind, he led her under the tape and over to one of the agency sedans parked nearby. "That would make your sister Janice Binxson, right?" he asked, pulling out a notepad.

Emily nodded. "Ok, Miss Binxson, I need you to try and keep it together for a few minutes so I can ask you some questions, ok?" She nodded. "Good. Are your parents around?"

A wave of cold washed over her face. "No. Mom died after she had Janie and Dad scrammed after I turned 18 last year. It's just me and Janie." A tear rolled down her cheek. "I-I've been working two jobs since then, to keep us off the street, to keep Janie… in school!" She collapsed into sobs.

McGee took pity on her and pulled the girl into a one-armed hug. "I-I'm sorry," she apologized, pulling away after a second. "I'm sorry, it's just that…"

"Don't be," he insisted. "You just lost your little sister. You have every right to cry, every right to mourn. Just hold off for two more minutes, ok?" She nodded slowly.

"Where did you see her last time?" McGee asked, pulling out his notepad.

"L-last night. I tucked her into bed, kissed her goodnight, then woke up this morning and she as gone!" A few tears leaked. "Th-the window was open, but it wasn't 24 hours and I wanted to make sure I was just over-reacting so I called all her friends and then started running around town looking for her, and then…" Her sobs overtook anything else that could've come out of her mouth.

"Did Janie have any enemies?" It was a stupid question, but he had to ask it.

"Of course not! She was _9 years old!_ Everyone loved her!" The tears returned and Emily fell into his shoulder, well and truly soaking it through. McGee simply patted her back. "I-I keep wishing for someone to pull her out of a car or something, saying 'April Fool's!' and telling me it's all ok!"

McGee shook his head, hating what he was about to say. "It's not ok, Miss Binxon… Emily?" She nodded. "It won't be ok. It'll _never_ be ok. You'll always ask yourself if you could've done something to stop it, somehow have turned fate so that you died instead of her. You'll always wish that you had just one more minute with her, just to tell her how much you love her and won't forger her in a million years. Even after we catch whoever did this, you'll still feel a little empty inside, where Janice had a part of your soul." Emily looked up at him, her eyes wide. "All you can do is what she would've wanted you too: live on. Mourn for now, grieve, bury her, and let us do our job and catch this b$^rd. Then keep on with life, that's all you can do."

"You-you know what…?"

"It's like?" he finished. "Unfortunately, yes, to a point. I thought she was dead for while, and I didn't have anyone to turn to, no friends, no family, nothing. You, at least, have friends, right?" She nodded. "Maybe a boyfriend hidden somewhere?" Emily shrugged, but he didn't miss the blush creeping onto her tear-lined face. "Don't grieve alone, whatever you do, ok? You won't survive long like that."

"Then how did you manage?" Their eavesdropper had been wondering the same thing, and another: _What happened to Sarah?_ "You said you were alone, how come you're still here?"

McGee turned away, looking at the trees growing out of some of the older graves. "I had to," he replied, so quietly that Ziva had to strain her ears to hear it. "I didn't have a choice." He looked back at Emily. "But you do. Don't make the wrong one, Emily."

Emily nodded slowly, then stared as Tony came into view, smiling charmingly. "Hi, Tony DiNozzo," he introduced himself. "I just wanted to make sure you're ok, and..."

"Um... why do you look like that kid in The Patriot?"

Eventually, the team left the scene, all evidence found. Ziva left with something to wonder about. McGee was quiet and simply looked out the window, frowning in confusion, like he was trying to solve a puzzle without a few pieces.

Gibbs left with an anger he was happy he rarely had; one that only reared its ugly head when an innocent child had been killed for reasons they didn't know yet.

Tony left clutching his seatbelt for dear life: an angry Gibbs is a Gibbs that should have his driver's license revoked.

Well. More than usual, anyway.

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**p.s.: for those who missed the update on my profile, this one will probably be a little less funny than T2F (3 guesses what that is), and a little more serious. i'm not that great a humor writer, actually. sorry. and there will be some minor character death at the end. just warning you now. AND yes, i will have "censored" all the curse words, like i did here. you can guess what they are if you want.**

**p.p.s.: tomorrow.....**

**PEACE! ~Tibki**


	3. Family Feuds and Oil of Boil

**Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeere's chapter 2! and me, on my birthday, whoohoo! it's kinda funny cuz i'm so happy even tho i'm sick. maybe cuz the sun is shining for the first time in a week, literally. anyway, ive got good news and bad news for you. good news (could also be seen as bad, tho) is that this chapter is HUGE, like bigger than the other two ADDED TOGETHER. so get your mouses ready to hide or minimize if you dont have time to read it all. bad news: cliffhanger. sorry! **

**disclaimer- i can assure you my name is not bellisario. so it aint mine.**

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NCIS:

"Tony Ziva, evidence, down to Abby," Gibbs barked as they left the elevator. "McGee, I want everything on these girls by the time they get back here!" He didn't say anything else, just stormed up the stairs toward the Director's office and MTAC.

"Got it… boss," he replied to an empty bullpen. He went behind his desk and cracked his fingers, starting the search.

There wasn't much to find, unfortunately. He had everything within minutes. Janice Theresa Binxson's mother had died giving birth to her, had one sister 10 years older than her—Emily—her father had died in a bar fight last year somewhere in West Virginia, and was on a soccer team based in Arlington. They lived in a small house just outside city limits. Janice had gone to school inside the town and Emily had both her jobs inside of it. They should have been relatively safe… obviously, they weren't.

Finding himself with nothing to do ant Tony and Ziva still with Abby, McGee started another search, this one purely for his own curiosity—a family tree of the Binxsons.

After a minute, his partners headed out of the elevator and toward the bullpen. Ziva glanced at McGee's face, frowning at the computer, and pulled Tony behind the half-wall behind his desk.

Tony nearly made a sound in protest, but she had her hand over his mouth before he could. "Shush," she ordered, removing it.

Unable to resist a jab, he smirked at her. "You could've just _asked_, Ziiiva," he told her, moving his hand forward suggestively.

She bent it backwards until he drew back, wincing. "I would tell you to get your mind out of the gutter, DiNozzo, if it hadn't set up a permanent place of residence there."

"Nice, you got that one right for once."

"Thank you, it does happen on occasion," she glared at him.

"Right." He peeked over the wall at Tim. "Why are we spying on McGoo? If we wanted to know what was up, we'd go in there and poke him until he spills."

"I don't think he would explain," she replied. "It is something personal… probably with Sarah."

"Sarah?" He hadn't heard from the girl since the Petty case. "How do you know?"

"McGee knew what Emily—the victim's older sister—was going through, too well. I think something happened to Sarah when he was little."

"So? Let's hack into his file, find out, and get on with life."

"I already checked, on the way here, on my phone. There is nothing about his sister, except that she is listed as first next-of-kin."

"Huh. That's weird."

"Why? Don't you think he could hack into his own file and change a few things inside it?"

"No, I know he can do that, I just meant it weird that his next-of-kin is his _sister_ in _college._ If I died, I'd never trust my sister with my stuff, especially if she was that age."

"I didn't know you had a sister."

"I don't." Ziva looked at him, confused. "Listen. You can stay here and do your super-spy double-07 ninja thing, but I am going over there and poking until he spills. It's a tried and tested probie interrogation technique."

Tony tried to stand, but she pulled him back down to eye level. "Do you not listen?" she demanded. "Wait. Don't answer that. McGee believes it personal and will not reveal it. Better to spy now and find out what he is doing for ourselves then get a garbled version much later, yes?"

Her partner shrugged in agreement. "Good point."

The computer chimed. It was just like he'd thought: Janice Binxson's family could be traced all the way back to her great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather who had come to the New World on the _Mayflower_ in the 1620s. He'd fallen in love with a farm girl from outside of New York and had 2 sons—one of which was William Isaac Binx, the first boy to have his birth certificate approved in Salem Village. William I. Binx married a woman named Theresa and had 2 children—Thackery and Emily.

McGee sighed, rubbing his brow. The ancient records found in the old Salem courthouse had shown that the Binxes had had one other son, Zachariah, just before moving to what was now the beautiful state of Maryland. Sure, he was happy that they had gone on with life after the Sandersons had taken away their only two kids, but… it still hurt a little.

"What kind of name is Thackery?" Tony had to ask out loud. McGee jumped a mile, hiding the search by instinct. "Seriously, I think I would've killed myself if my mom named me that."

McGee's face turned an unusual shade of red in embarrassment. "It, uh, it means 'One who works on thatched roofs'," he explained. "Why were you guys back there?"

"Because Ziva's a curious little eavesdropping schoolgirl," he immediately ratted her out. She glared at him. "Said you were acting weird at the scene. Something about knowing how the sister felt… _too well_." He eyed him suspiciously.

He swallowed, but managed a weak smile. "Yeah, it, uh, was a long time ago."

"Was it Sarah?" Ziva asked, gently. At least, she hoped it was gently. He nodded slowly in reply. "What happened?"

McGee shook his head. "It's, uh, nothing, like I said, it happened a long time ago and it's been taken care of… Hey boss."

Tony and Ziva both froze. As expected, a hand connected with the back of both their heads.

"What do you two think you're doing?" Gibbs asked.

"Getting to work, boss," Tony replied, making a hasty retreat into the bullpen, Ziva on his heels.

"Everything I've found matches up with Emily's story, boss," McGee reported as Gibbs walked around in front of his desk. "Victim lived outside of town, no mother, Dad died in a bar fight a year ago, it's down to the letter. I checked their bank records, nothing indicating any extra income. They were just… two sisters trying to get along."

"Anything useful?"

"Not really, no," he replied, wincing as he sat down.

"Except that he traced her family," Tony piped up. Gibbs raised an eyebrow at both of them, then turned to McGee, who was glaring at Tony.

"I, uh, wanted to know if there was some sort of family feud going on," he explained semi-truthfully. "If someone held a grudge…"

"Why go back to the _Mayflower?_" the boss demanded. All three of them had long since gotten used to his omniscience, but still, he was good. "Find anything interesting back then, McGee?"

"Um, not really, see, there's nothing." He pulled the search back onto the plasma.

"What's up with that kid?" Tony asked, pointing to the name Thackery Binx. "I mean, besides the name, look." Instead of a year-of-death, there was a question mark across from the year 1677.

"Uh… that's Thackery Binx, the victim's great-to-the-6th granduncle. He, um…" McGee looked at his lap. "He disappeared at the age of 16 after his little sister Emily, who was 6, was found dead at the Sanderson sisters' cottage in Salem of no apparent cause."

"Isn't Emily _now_ also ten years older than her little sister?" McGee nodded.

"Dead of no apparent cause?" Ziva repeated. "You think that this Janice girl was killed the same way as Emily had been?"

McGee shook his head. "Unless the Sandersons' put a curse to come back to life, no," he replied, still not looking at them. "They, uh, they were tried for witchcraft and hanged on the first of November."

"And this helps us _how_, McGee?" Gibbs asked, glaring.

"Uh, I just thought, um, maybe it's a genetic thing, you know, uh, not showing any signs of foul play when, uh, they've been poisoned."

"Can that happen?" Tony asked, looking at McGee. The man did have a BS in Bio-Medical Engineering by the time he was 25. Tim shrugged.

"We don't know a lot about DNA, Tony…"

"What is that?" Ziva asked, walking forward. "There." She pointed at a little green line of words underneath Thackery Binx's name.

McGee turned white. "Think it's a link," Tony replied, standing and walking closer. He snapped his fingers at McGee. "Open it, probie."

"Uh…"

"McGee, open it," Gibbs growled. McGee opened the link and shut his eyes.

Silence reined the bullpen, until Tony spoke up (of course). "He looks exactly like you, probie."

Tim sighed again and opened his eyes. On the screen was a picture of an oil painting, of what an anonymous artist imagined had happened to Thackery Binx; he'd been transformed into the black cat who guarded the cottage on Halloween night, to make sure no one would try to wake the witches. Just seeing the pain on his 16-year-old face as he was turned into a cat made him wince.

"Yeah… he does. This is _Thackery Binx's Sorry Fate._"

"Are you related?" Ziva asked, not moving her eyes from the boy. She could _see_ the McGee in his face.

Tim stopped to think for a second. He could tell them the truth, and get carted off to the funny farm, or he could _not_ tell them and just let them believe a half-truth: he was related to Thackery Binx.

"Yeah, by I distance, I guess." McGee shrugged. "Sorry boss, it's just, his sister's name was Emily too. Emily Binxson… Emily Binx…" Gibbs nodded curtly, still feeling like they were wasting time. "I've got nothing else, though. They're both clean as they come."

"Then we'll have to wait for Ducky and Abby to find something," he growled, angry at the fact that there was nothing they could do.

* * *

Hours later, when the sun had started to set over the river, Gibbs sent McGee and Tony down to check on Abby and her results, while he and Ziva went to Ducky, hoping that one of them had found _something_. Their own, more careful and more extensive search had turned up as fruitless as the trees outside.

Instead of the lone Abby in her loud lab, though, Tony and McGee were greeted by the sight of the Goth and another woman with long blonde hair in a single braid down her back. She was in a bright green robe that reminded both of them of the robes that Winifred Sanderson was wearing in the painting.

"Hey guys!" Abby said cheerfully, once noticing them. "Meet Esmeralda. She's a friend of mine from the local magic guild. Elda, these are my friends, Tony and McGee."

"Magic guild?" Tony repeated after returning the woman's careful wave. "What is she, a witch?"

"Wiccan," the other three people in the room replied. Tony did a double take, then looked at McGee with raised eyebrows. He shrugged. "Abby introduced me to Elda a little while ago."

"A little while ago?" he asked. "As in last year, or as in when you were still sleeping in the coffin?" McGee's blush gave him his answer. "Ok… what's the difference?"

"A witch is a servant of the devil," Esmeralda replied calmly. "A wiccan is like an anti-witch. A healer."

"Like a doctor," McGee added.

"When those clothes were in style." Abby snickered. "What happened, Tony, lose _another_ bet?" She covered her mouth. "Oh, sorry!"

Tony was glaring at her while McGee looked like Christmas had come 2 months early. "_Another_ one?" he asked, smiling.

"She's lying," he insisted. Abby winked at Tim while he wasn't looking, making him smile even wider. "So, _Esmeralda,_ what are you doing here? Abby usually doesn't do well with a partner."

"I sensed that she would handle something evil either today or very soon," she replied. "I have come to help her purify the lab, the building, and everyone inside it." Alda looked at McGee, raising her near-invisible eyebrows. "You have an odd aura around you today, Timothy."

_"Timothy?"_ Tony repated.

"I-I do?" he asked, blinking.

"Yes. That of a boy twice curst." He swallowed for the third time that day. "Once by a witch and once by guilt."

"Witches again." Tony narrowed his eyes at Abby. "Are you staging this?"

"Staging what?" she asked, surprised.

"All this witch stuff. First it turns out that McGeek's great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather got kidnapped by a bunch of witches 300 years ago, then your wiccan-not-witch friend here pays a visit, and now a witch's cursed him. Gibbs doesn't believe in coincidences, Abs."

"There's only 6 greats," McGee grumbled, knowing what was coming. "And he can't be my _father_, he disappeared when he was 16, remember?"

The women stopped paying attention. "You're related to a victim of witchcraft?" Abby asked, her eyes wide. She slapped McGee's arm. "Why didn't you tell me! That's _so cool!_"

"Who?" Alda asked. "What witches?"

"Thackery Binx," Tony replied, smirking at the other man. "Disappeared the same day his little sister Emily was killed by the devious Sanderson sisters!" He waved his arms dramatically, then started laughing. "Whaddya got for us Abs, really?"

"Like in Salem?" Abby's attention was still drawn towards Tim. "I read about them! Winifred's dying words were…."

"Fools, all of you, my ungodly book speaks to you, on All Hallow's Eve, when the moon is round, a virgin will summon us from under the ground, yadda yadda yadda, yeah, I know Abs, I've heard it before. I spent Halloween in Salem when I was 16, remember?" McGee broke her off.

"Perhaps the curse continues down your blood line," Alda thought, sweeping her arm to tap her chin. "Have you ever had a dream about being a cat?"

"No, I haven't." _Nightmares aren't dreams._ "And I promise, I haven't had a witch put a curse on me. Thackery Binx might have, I don't know, but not Tim McGee, ok?"

Alda shrugged. "Sometimes a guilt curse is even more terrible than witch's one. Remember that, Timothy." she said, like it was the most important information in the world.

"Er…" McGee glanced at Tony, who shook his head. "Right. I will. What did you get us on the case, Abs?"

"Not a lot," she replied sympathetically, "the only thing off the girl's clothes—grass stains, which matched the grass in the cemetery, and this little bugger." She clicked on the computer and pulled up a microscope image of a curly red hair. "Undyed and curly as they come. There was a little DNA on it, but no hits in CODIS, AFIS, or any other database I tried. I'm doing federal agency employee lists, not that I think I'll find anything, but because we've gotta be thorough. Otherwise…"

"Gibbs'll kill us." The men nodded.

"Exactly. Now, Ducky found some fluid in her stomach, which is really the big thing here. And don't ask me what it was, because…"

"What?" Tony replied.

Abby glared at him, then smacked him on the arm. "I said not to! Major Mass had a _field day_ with it, decided it was everything from pus to keratin to the tissue in your muscle to calcium to all sorts of nasty little bacteria and stuff, and everything in between. Put together they make the hugest anti-immune system drug on the face of the Earth, as strong as Temozolomide*."

McGee whistled in appreciation, then explained to the extra-confused Tony. "It's a brain cancer drug. Shuts down the immune system better than anything else the human race has found yet."

"I knew that."

"That combined with all those bacteria I was talking about, this girl was weaker than anyone in history. It wouldn't show anything on the body because none of it is poison alone. And we were lucky, Ducky told us there was only like a drop left, barely enough for Mass Spec to analyze."

_"And that would be cause of death,"_ Ducky's voice said over the videocom. _"Because other than that, this healthy young girl simply dropped dead of no accord."_

"Hey Duckman!" Abby said, smiling at his face. "What's up?"

_"Well, nothing now, I was hoping to ask you if you had determined what the stuff was."_

"No… but now I get to name it!" she squeaked. "If the killer already hasn't, that is. I hope he hasn't, because then the paper I used for names would be useless and I just wasted an entire forest." She pointed to her office, which was piled high with sticky notes. "You wanna hear some of them?"

_"Abs, how long would it take for her to die like this?"_ Gibbs demanded, his head appearing over Ducky's.

"Hey Gibbs! … Not long, but it didn't hurt, I can tell you that."

McGee looked around, taking all the evidence and trying to fit it together like a puzzle. Calcium, keratin, pus… muscle… a red hair… A horrible idea making itself known, McGee turned to the calendar on Abby's wall. It was October 30th, so tomorrow was… "What color was it?" he asked quietly, crossing his fingers behind his back.

"Hm?" Abby asked, spinning around. "What was that?"

"What color was the poison?" he asked again. _Please don't say green, please don't say green…_

_"Green,"_ Ducky replied. _"Why? Do you know what it is?"_

"Got a hunch," he answered. McGee grabbed Abby's shoulders and looked her in the eye. "Abby."

"Yeah, Timmy?" McGee ignored Tony's snickers in the background.

"Could whatever that stuff is be made of oil of boil, a dead man's finger, hair, and the tips of three tongues?"

Everyone, even Palmer down in autopsy, stared at him. "That sounds like a witch's potion," Alda said quietly.

Tony carefully, laid a hand on his partner's shoulder. "McGee," he said seriously. "Do you want me to call a doctor or something? You know, those nice men in white coats?" McGee rolled his eyes and removed the hand.

"Abs?"

Abby ran the compounds through her head and blinked, shocked. "Y-yes. The pus from the boil, the-the calcium from the bone, the muscle from the tongues, and the keratin from the hair and the nail." McGee swore darkly, letting her go and running his fingers through his hair. "How did you know?"

McGee licked his suddenly dry lips and found the jar with the hair inside it. He held it in front of Abby. "Can you match this one to the hair in the potion?" he asked seriously.

"I should be, if there's the right type of keratin is in there," she replied, worried. "Why…? You know who did this. You think this is the killer's hair, don't you!"

"I'm really hoping I'm wrong," he told her. "Please Abs, I need proof before I start to sound really crazy."

"You already are, kid, trust me," Tony assured him.

_ "You feeling alright, Tim?"_ Gibbs asked, worried.

"If Abby matches this, no I am not." Abby took the hair and put it into Major Mass Spec.

She started to tell them about how every person's hair has a specific amount of keratin in it, but no one was paying attention. They were all staring at McGee, who was pacing nervously, looking at the setting sun.

The computer dinged. "How did you know they would match, McGee?" Abby asked, turning slowly.

All he heard was the word 'match'. A string of curses that would've made his mother run for the soap came—at least quietly—out of his mouth.

Instead of answering, though, he pulled out his phone and hit speed dial 10. "C'mon, c'mon, pick up," he grumbled, pacing again.

_"Max Dennison's phone, Dani speaking!"_ a young girl's voice sang from the speaker. McGee jumped, swearing a little louder this time. _"Hey, I know that voice! Binx!"_

McGee put it back to normal and started talking into the mouthpiece. "Dani, give the phone to your brother. Yeah, I'm happy to hear your voice too, but I've got an emergency over here, put Max on now!" McGee started pacing again, then stopped just as quickly. "Max! It's Tim… yeah, but the name is _Tim_ now, remember? Listen, Max, has there been any sort of weird reports in the museum?"

He put it on speaker, for the others to hear, crossing his fingers again. _"Uh… yeah, there was one. Couple kids said that they saw the book's eye open. We thought it was just a prank, but I checked it out and it's as dead as it was 17 years ago. Why?"_ McGee's swears answered his question. _"Th-I mean, Tim? Please don't say they're back. __Please say they're still dead.__"_

"Them, no, they're still gone," he replied. "Her_,_ yes. She's back, and she's going after people related to me."

_"There's people related to you? Other than Em—Sarah?"_

"We had cousins, Mother and Father had another son after we left, that's not important. Max, she's done it again, a little girl only 9-years-old. Last name Binxson. Ship the book to D.C. _now!_"

_"You got it, Tim,"_ "Max" replied. _"We're on our way."_

"No, not you."

_"Tim, you can't stop us…"_

"Yes, I can, and I will. You, Allison, and Dani have a _family_ now, Max. Your time involved in this mess ended in '93. I'm not dragging you back into it."

_"Tim, if my time's over, yours is _way_ over! You've been after this lady for…"_

"I know, but she's targeting me, not you. I don't want you guys in danger. If I see you on that plane, I'll handcuff you to the next one and tell the stewardess not to let you go until you're back in Salem, you hear me, Max?" No reply. "I said, _do you hear me?_"

_"Yeah yeah. Dani's gonna kill me. If you end up dead, I'm telling Allison to bring you back so I can kill you again, you got that, Binx?"_

"Yeah, I got it. Thanks Max, I owe you one."

_"We're even for the graveyard."_

McGee hung up, then turned to his staring team. "The witch's book of spells knows him, Timothy," Alda told him. "It knows that if it kept its eye closed while he was there, Max would not have warned you about her return."

The entire room froze. "How do you know about the book?" Tim asked, immediately suspicious. "You said you're a wiccan. _Not_ a witch."

"I am a wiccan," she replied calmly. "But before, I was a groundskeeper at Salem graveyard… specifically, in late October of 1993."

"Groundskeeper?" he repeated. "Groundskeeper." McGee groaned and knocked his fist on his forehead. "!)am^it, how could we have been so _stupid?_ Of course there was a groundskeeper, of course you came when you heard the screams, _how could we forget that?_" He looked her in the eye. "How much did you see?"

She met it easily. "Everything from the point when Max swallowed the last of Winifred's potion."

"So you know."

"About you? Yes, I do. You and your sister are the ones who inspired me to turn to Wicca." McGee froze, his eyes widening.

"Sarah." He swore once more. "She's gonna go after Sarah!" McGee looked out the window at the dark of night. "I don't have much time!" He turned and ran for the elevator, but stopped at the door and did a 180. "_Don't tell anyone,_ Alda, _please!"_

"You have my word, Timothy, now go save your sister." He smiled gratefully at her, then ran for the present elevator.

Tony nudged Abby, who nodded. "Alda, stay here," she told her friend sternly. "We're gonna have some questions for you when we come back."

Alda sat in a nearby chair. "I won't move from this spot. Now go help Timothy."

Both of them glanced at each other before running out of the lab after McGee.

* * *

**~falls over dead~ my... fingers... they hurtz... 4,500 words...  
shorter chapter and action tomorrow, i promise.**

***actual brain cancer drug found by people in England**

**PEACE~Tibki**


	4. The Geek, the Witch, and the Book

**smaller chapter for you guys today. this one has gunfire in it, but i'm not that great in live-action scenes, so...**

**if anyone asks, i'm doing my science project, ok? OK?**

**disclaimer- disclaimed.**

* * *

Thank God for German sports cars.

He couldn't remember how he'd ever lived without a car, without the modern technology that made his world go round today. Well, actually, he could, fairly well; he could remember everything from the past years.

But the German car was definitely one of the best things so far. That and NCIS.

Of course, it didn't really surprise him when an agency sedan and a blood-red hearse appeared behind him. Part of him was touched that they were worried about him, part was worried about them, and part was simply worried they thought he was crazy.

But when another car, an old '78 Buick that seemed a lot like the one he'd read about on the Binxson's bank records, he was surprised. Emily had seen that something was going on and had probably taken it into her own hands to find out what.

She was more like Sarah than he thought.

The thought made him smile, but when he saw a shape that looked suspiciously like someone riding a vacuum—complete with a dangling cord—fly across the moon, it disappeared. McGee hit the gas pedal so hard the tires lost traction for a second before the Porsche's engine took over.

Without even throwing it in park, he jumped from the car and ran into the building, flashing his badge at those who looked up. They'd all been thoroughly checked out by Big Brother McGee after his little sister had nearly been convicted of murder and they knew that anyone who stood in the way of him when he needed his sister that badly would probably not live to tell the tale.

So when DiNozzo and Abby, then Gibbs and Ziva, came through the same door, the college kids just pointed up the stairs. The last girl, a blonde, got the same treatment, but seemed even more confused than the rest of them.

Sarah was sleeping in her bed when her door started exploding. She groaned and stood up, making her way blindly to her front door.

"Whozzer?" she mumbled, trying to see through the peephole with a closed eye. She hadn't slept at all the day before—her English Lit exams were next week and she had stayed up all night studying.

"Sarah, it's Tim, open up!" her brother's voice yelled.

That amount of fear in his voice could only mean one thing; she was in serious trouble. Sarah opened the door, barely flinching when he came in SIG first. "Thack? Why're you here?" she asked. They always used their real names in private.

"Is she here yet?"

"Is who here yet?" she replied. "Thack? Thackery." She grabbed her brother's arm. "What's going on?"

"Thackery?" Tony's voice asked. Both McGees turned and saw the rest of Team Gibbs, including Abby, and Emily Binxson standing at the door. Sarah swore under her breath.

"Yeah, um… that's his middle name," she explained.

"McGee doesn't have a middle name," Abby replied, narrowing her eyes. "I smell something hinky going on here!"

"What's going on?" Gibbs demanded of his agent.

"You don't know either?" Sarah asked. "Good. I'm not the only one. _what's happening, Tim?_"

A gale worthy of Hurricane Katrina hit the building, pushing Sarah's windows open and sending papers flying everywhere.

_"Boooooooooooooook!"_ a woman's voice sang. Sarah froze in place, recognizing it. _"Come to me!"_

"That's what's up!" McGee yelled in reply.

"B-b-b-b-but she's dead!" Sarah squeaked. "She's dead! Hallowed ground, sunrise on the first, she's _dead!_"

A redheaded woman on a vacuum cleaner flew into the room, looking around with beady little eyes. Sarah screamed and hid behind her brother; Abby screamed and hid behind Gibbs; Emily simply screamed. Gibbs, Ziva,and Tony were too shocked to even think about something to say. "Binx! What a surprise! What hast it been, 16 years now?"

"17, but who's counting?" McGee called back, raising his gun. More on instinct than anything else, the others did the same. "How did you get back here, you hag?"

"Wash thy mouth!" she cried, pointing at him. McGee flinched visibly, but nothing happened. "That is for I to know and thee to never find out! Thy time on this Earth is rapidly diminishing, boy!"

"Yours ran out 300 years ago, you old broad!" Sarah screeched. "Get out of my room!"

"All I have come for is my darling _boooooooooooook!"_ A glass shattered on Sarah's dresser. "Thou would just have been a lucky bonus, _wench_."

Tim shot the handle of the cleaner, bringing a scream from the witch. "That was just a warning shot, Winifred, keep talking about my sister and I'll put a bullet between your eyes!"

"Obviously, my prescious is not in thy possession," she growled, glaring. "But before I say my farewell, a gift I leave for thee!" The witch looked directly at Emily, revealing her huge buckteeth in a grin. "Would thou like to meet thy ancestors, Binx?"

"Touch any of them and I'll kill you, don't think I won't, Sanderson!"

Winifred turned back to him, hatred written over her face. "Insolent little… take this, then!"

She pointed again, and a bolt of green lightning hit McGee square in the stomach. He groaned in pain, clenching his teeth to hold back a scream and holding both arms to his abdomen as he was slammed against the wall and started rising toward the ceiling.

Gibbs got over the shock and started shooting, hitting the witch in the head three times. The sound of the gunfire woke up Ziva and Tony, who let out their own magazines, burrowing a total of over 15 bullets into her.

Winifred screamed, backing out of the window and disappearing from sight. "I shall have my revenge!" they heard her scream. "So swears Winifred Sanderson!"

"Go back to hell!" Sarah yelled out the window.

McGee slid off the wall, hitting the floor pretty hard. "Tim!" Abby, Sarah, and Emily all said, rushing to his side.

Ziva was already next to him. "He is still alive," she assured the men.

"Em…" he breathed, fluttering his eyes open. "…ily?"

"Y-yeah?"

"Not you," Sarah said, at least gently. "That's my middle name. I'm here, Tim, but it's Sarah, remember?"

"Sar-ah…" McGee groaned, pushing himself up. "I'm… not a cat, right?" he asked, looking around.

Tony started laughing, then quickly stopped as he realized McGee was serious. "No, probie, you're still human."

Tim looked down himself and sighed in relief. "Thank God." He looked around. "Winifred?"

"Dead," Ziva replied. She raised an eyebrow at his shocked face. " Don't be surprised, we are federal agents. We hit her at least 15 times, McGee."

"Your guns?" She nodded. "She's not dead."

"We didn't miss, McGee," Gibbs told him.

McGee looked sheepish. "No, that's uh, not what I meant boss. I-I'm sure your shots all hit, but, you see, she can't die that way… not today, at least. Guns won't do a thing against her." He looked up at them and grinned. "Still think I'm crazy?"

"Either that or we all are," Tony murmured.

"Hey, you're the one in _breeches_," Sarah told him.

Gibbs knelt next to Tim, looking him over with a steely eye. "You alright, Tim? What happened here?"

He shrugged. "I've taken harder hits before. _That_ was Winifred Sanderson, back from the dead and looking for her book of spells."

"Who's Winifred Sanderson?" Emily asked.

McGee turned to her, a pained look on his face. "She was the oldest of the three Sanderson sisters in the 17th century, who were hanged for witchcraft when villagers found Emily Binx dead in their cottage… and her older brother Thackery missing. Emily," he said seriously, "Winifred killed your sister."

Emily stared at him, then started backing away. "Is this some sort of sick joke?" she asked. "My-my sister is _dead_, and you're telling me she died from _witchcraft_? There's no such thing as witches!"

"Anymore," Sarah nodded. "They were real 300 years ago… Emily." She glanced at her brother, eyebrows raised. He shrugged in reply. "And in '93. Winifred and her sisters came back when a friend of ours lit a black flame candle at their cottage…"

"Which is a museum in Salem now!" Abby remembered. "I took the online tour when I was in college! There was this huge cauldron and like a pantry of disgusting ingredients and…"

"And her spell book," McGee finished. "Bound in human skin with a human eye embedded in the cover, given to her by the Devil himself. She must've used the last of her life-sucking potion on your sister to make herself look young again."

"Why Janie?" Emily whispered, tears coming into her eyes. "Why my sister, why not someone else?"

"Because you're a Binxson," Sarah replied. "And directly related to Thackery and Emily Binx, just like us."

"Listen, in 93, I helped a few friends of mine kill her again," McGee explained. "She thought that since I was related to Thackery, I would have the book, so she tracked me here and…" He shook his head. "It was just too big of a coincidence for her to ignore. Emily Binxson. Emily Binx. And you had a sister about Emily and Sarah's age back then."

"So this is a family thing?" Only Tony could sum it up like that.

"Guess you could say that," he nodded. "Emily, I'm sorry about Janie, but we have to focus on keeping her from the book right now."

"Do we want to know why?" Ziva asked.

McGee gave a humorless laugh. "No. No, you don't. But you probably have to. With the book, Winifred can make more of the potion and suck enough lives out of kids to make her young forever and give her enough power to bring her sisters back from the dead. They tried it in Salem in 1693 and 300 years later, and now she's going to try it here."

"There are _thousands_ of kids in the D.C. area," Abby said, her eyes wide. McGee nodded. "If-if she does this…"

"Worse than 9/11," he nodded. "The last thing this country needs is a terrorist attack—from witches that were hanged 3 centuries ago, boss."

"Any idea when?"

"All Hallows," he nodded. "Only day she can bring her sister back, and she can't do it without them, she's not powerful enough."

"You mean Halloween?"

"Yeah, that." No surprise Tony didn't know that.

"I think this would count as our strange case for the year," Ziva told him.

"More like the century," Gibbs replied sourly. "Where's the book now?"

"Max and Allison—they're the ones who lit the candle and brought them back to like last time—are sending it. Allison owns the museum now and her husband is a cop in Salem PD. It should be here by morning."

His phone rang again. McGee stood carefully and picked it up, steadying himself on a wall. "Agent McGee."

_"Binx!"_

"Dani?" he asked, surprised. "Dani, is that you?"

_"Uh, _duh_! Where are you guys?"_

"Sarah's dorm. Why?"

_"Because I landed at Dulles like an hour ago and I'm just sitting here waiting for you slowpokes to get your butts over here!"_

"You're HERE?"

_"Binx, I thought you were smart!"_ the girl said. _"Do you really think that the people at the airport would let a book made from human skin through a baggage check without anyone with it?"_

"I thought you guys Fed-Exxed it!"

_"Well… Max thinks so too."_

"Danielle Dennison, you better pray you didn't do what I think you did."

_"I wasn't going to let you handle Winifred on you own, Binx!"_

"I'm not alone! That's it, I'm calling your brother and shipping you back to him in a cage! Dani, this is dangerous, she's already killed a kid, she'll only come after you more because you escaped her last time!"

_"You've escaped her twice already!"_

"Yeah, and she's already come after us." McGee realized he was pacing and stopped, running a hand through his hair. "Dani, you are going to be in a lot of trouble after this is over."

_"So I can help?"_

As much as he hated to admit it, Dani was practicing a little Wicca alongside her studies and they could use her. "Fine. But no crawling out of the grave this time, you got me?"

_"Yes! Yesyesyes! Thank you so much, Binx, I swear you won't regret it!"_

"I already do," he grumbled, hanging up. "Ziva, you mind driving us to Dulles?"

Tony turned white.

* * *

**hope he's updated his will...**

**thats all for today, i'll try to post again tomorrow.**

**PEACE~ Tibki**


	5. Danielle Dennison Disembarks at Dulles

**hi. normal chappie today-no action, excepting a slap (not Ziva and Abby, sorry!), mostly explanations, and _vair_ _petit_ humor, if you can even call it that. otherwise, i' just writing this cuz the disclaimer alone looks boring and, well, cuz i am bored.**

**so.**

**say the name of this chapter 5 times fast, i dare you.**

**disclaimer~ how many times do i have to go through this? not mine. and one to grow on: not mine.**

* * *

Dulles Airport had seen many cheerful greetings over the years. Most people simply hugged everyone in their group and left, but there were some special moments no one who ever worked there would forget. For instance, one group actually got permission from the manager and put a banner across the entire lobby welcoming their 110-year-old mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother home.

Another family hired a mariachi band to play a wedding march when a bride and groom came off a plane from their honeymoon.

This greeting had no huge banners and no music, but the way the team arrived was startling enough.

McGee had told Emily to head back to NCIS, and, after some protests, she had, grumbling loudly and swearing darkly. The others had arrived in a Porsche Boxster (with Tim behind the wheel; time may have been of the essence, in case Winifred learned that Dani was there, but there was no way he was letting _near_ a sports car, much less his), a black sedan just like the ones used by federal agents, and a blood red hearse pumping BrainMatter at full volume.

The minute the parking window operators saw the two cars pull in at the same time, they let them in without any hesitation and called their friends up at the main lobby: "You will never believe what just came through the gates!"

Inside the airport, a young brunette about 2 years older than Sarah was sitting in the waiting area, clutching a brown-paper wrapped package and glaring at everyone like they were the witches in disguise.

The others in the area gave her a wide berth. Brown package, mean girl, strange clothes—she was wearing what looked suspiciously like a witch's costume—all pointed to something weird going on and they didn't want to mess with her.

When the team came through the sliding doors, she looked up and squealed in excitement so loudly, the entire room winced and moved further away.

"Biiiinx!" she screamed, running toward McGee. The package was thrown randomly—thankfully, Ziva's ninja assassin reflexes took care of it—as she jumped on him, giving him an Abby-worthy hug of epic proportions. "God, it's so good to see you! How've you been? Jesus, you've grown, you're huge!" She let go and backed away, looking up at the 6'2" Tim. "Why can't I be as tall as you?" she complained, stamping her foot.

"It's a mini-Abby," Tony said, shocked.

"I did not think the world was big enough for two of you," Ziva told the forensic scientist. "If she dyed her hair, she could be your little sister."

"Awwwwwww!" Abby crooned. "I've always wanted a baby sister!"

"Good to see you too, I've been better, yes I've grown, and because you're a munchkin and will always be a munchkin," McGee replied easily. Dani stuck her tongue out at him.

"Oh, gee, thanks for ignoring me, I'm just your _best friend standing over here!"_ Sarah yelled, holding her arms out.

"Sarily!" Dani squealed again, pulling the girl into a hug. "God, you look so different! Do you _know_ how hard it's been in Salem without you?"

"10 years will do that to ya, Dan," she laughed. "And I'm guessing it's the same way Georgetown is without you. I'm mean, my roommate Lindsey is nice and everything, but…"

"She doesn't _know_," they both nodded.

McGee shook his head. "Guys, this is Danielle Dennison," he introduced her, as she pulled from his sister. "Her brother, Max, is the one who brought the witches back last time. She helped us finish them off, and she should really know that the name is _Tim._" He glared at her. "Dani, these are my friends and co-workers, Agent DiNozzo, Agent David, Abby Sciuto, and my boss, Agent Gibbs."

"Nice to meet 'cha," she said nodding. Dani frowned at Tony and Abby. "Did I jump the dateline?" she wondered. "Why're you guys in costume?"

Ziva grinned maliciously. "Tony lost a bet that he could pick up a girl at a bar," she explained.

Abby stared the girl down. "You have something to say about my clothes?" she asked suspiciously.

"Yeah! They're awesome, and they look like they belong in the party I was going to go to tonight." She held up her dress. "Didn't get to go, though."

Abby grinned. "There's a rave tomorrow night if you wanna come with me! It's in a graveyard!"

"Abby," Tony spoke up, "we're gonna be a little busy fighting witches from ancient times, remember?"

"Hey, 300 years is _not_ ancient," Sarah protested, offended. "If there were zombies from like ancient Greece, then yeah, but not colonial America."

Abby nodded, still a little miffed. McGee glanced at Gibbs to make sure they were both thinking the same thing; there was no way in #3!! that they would be there for the fight. When he saw the ex-Marine nod slightly, he felt a huge weight come off his shoulders. There was no way he would've been able to convince Abby without Gibbs's help.

"So, who's place am I staying at?" Dani asked, looking decidedly at Tony. Tim could've sworn he saw Ziva tense—ever so slightly.

"Dream on, Dan, Max would kill me," Tim warned. "And before you even think it, it can't be me or Sarah, either. She's staying at my place and nobody's going to her dorm."

"My house," Gibbs spoke up, for the first time. Dani met his eyes and shrunk. The only reason she didn't hide behind McGee was pride. Gibbs's face grew into a grin. "Relax, I don't bite."

"Much," Tony murmured. Gibbs whacked the back of his head. "Sorry, boss." Another smack. "Right, no apologies."

Dani looked up at Tim. "I thought you were kidding!"

McGee smiled wanly. "I don't kid about my job," he replied. "You and the book will be safest at Gibbs's house."

She nodded slowly. "Ok… but I'm making sure the doors and the windows are locked _tight_."

For some reason this made them all laugh.

* * *

McGee was about to get into his Porsche—with Ziva inside, since they lived close by—when Sarah motioned for him to go outside with her. Ziva raised her eyebrows when Tim excused them and told her to stay there. She did—at first.

Sarah led her brother a few rows down and pulled him behind a hulking SUV with tinted windows. Tim just looked at her, blinking, while she crossed her arms and glared.

"You're thinking about it, aren't you?"

"About what?" he asked innocently.

"Thackery Binx, don't you dare give me that crap. You know what I'm talking about!"

"Uh…"

"You're gonna tell them, aren't you?" McGee looked at his feet and refused to look his sister in the eye. "AREN'T YOU?"

It was her near-shout that told Ziva their place. She hid on the other end of the huge vehicle and listened.

"Em—Sarah, you don't know them the way I do," he insisted. "Tony'll enver stop teasing me about it, but they'll understand, they'll adapt, they'll accept it…"

"Thack!" she said seriously, reaching up and grabbing hold of her brother's shoulders. Sarah sighed, shaking her head. "You remember old lady Smith?"

"The one that inherited Elijah's land?" She nodded. "The one who always smelled like cat litter and left food out for me everyday, even Halloween?" Another nod, stopped suddenly.

"Who are you to judge someone for smelling like cat litter?"

"Hey, I kept myself clean. What happened to her?" Concern raised its head at the mention of the now-probably-99-year-old woman. When she looked at him sympathetically, it changed to worry. "Sarah? What happened to Mrs. Smith?"

"She, uh, she figured it out." Tim paled. "I'm sorry, I knew you were still… sensitive after the whole Deep Six murders, and I didn't want to…"

"What happened?"

"She noticed when you weren't in front of the Sandersons' cottage Halloween '93," she explained, looking at the star-less sky. "So… she followed you guys to the cemetery. She had a food bowl and everything."

"Oh, God. How much did she…?"

"Last parts only. She convinced herself that it was a dream though…" Tim sighed in relief, leaning against the SUV. "… until last year."

"Last year?" he repeated, a dark feeling in his gut. _Looks like it rubs off_.

Sarah nodded. "She was… remodeling the house. Had to knock down a wall—everyone was cheering her on, she was almost 98—and she found a picture inside it."

"A picture?"

"Yeah… Remember how you told me when I was 10 that Elijah told you he wanted to be a painter at that same age?"

McGee smiled at the memory—he'd just announced it at the dinner table on Thanksgiving. His father had nearly choked on the turkey. He stood like that for about a second before connecting the dots. "Elijah made _Thackery Binx's Sorry Fate_."

Sarah nodded. "I-I'm sorry, Thack, she remembered us from when the McGees rode us around town, and you know she owned that little candle shop Mom loved. But still, she thought it was some huge coincidence… until she saw your picture on the back of your book."

Her brother turned so white she'd thought he'd died for a second. "She died of a heart attack and Max called to tell me, but I didn't want to tell you because…"

"Landon had just killed the other two people," he finished. "That's three people. Three people dead because of that stupid series!" McGee shook his head and started pacing again—his family had long since put it down as a stress reliever. "That's it. I'm done. First the guys catch wind of it and won't leave me alone about it _today_, then Landon… did what he did, and now this! I'm going to my publisher the day after tomorrow and _ripping up that contract!_"

Sarah shook her head and slapped her brother across the face. "Get yourself together, Thack, or so help me I will Gibbs slap you!"

He stared at her, shocked. "Listen to me, Thack. You're a great writer and half my English Lit class has mugs with your name on it. _They brought them to class on your birthday last year._ And you love doing it, almost as much as NCIS. You rip up that contract and I'll rip you to shreds, got me?" He nodded, still shell-shocked. "All I'm asking you is to leave out a few things in your story. You know, like…"

"Do you want me to _lie?_" Tim asked, backing away. "Em, you're my sister and one of my best friends, but there's no possible way I can lie! Especially not to Gibbs! First they're too good, they'll see right through it! Second, they _know me too well_, they know when I'm lying, and third, it's physically impossible for me to lie, and fourth, lying to Gibbs… I can't do it!"

"Why not?" she asked. "We lied to our foster parents." McGee turned away. "Thack, it was necessary. They would've kicked us out of the street if you _hinted_ the truth, and you know it. What so different between Dad and Gibbs?"

"You really wanna know?" Sarah nodded. "First, Gibbs _is Gibbs._ You don't lie to Gibbs. Second…" Tim met her eyes, seeing nothing but a look that said she just wanted to help. "He… he reminds me of Father."

Sarah froze. Tim almost never talked about their birth parents. They'd told everyone who knew they were adopted that their parents had died. So far, no one had asked their real last names yet, not even their Mom and Dad. He had made sure that Sarah had grown up knowing about their parents, and knowing it was an enormous secret, but once he ran out of stories, he shut his clam about them. He hadn't mentioned them since he joined NCIS.

He had said that their father was tough but caring—like a Marine—though. "And I could never lie to Father. Ever, Sarah. He's _just_ like Gibbs, except…" Tim smiled wanly, "Gibbs is the right age… if I really had been born in 1977."

Sensing that the conversation had ended, Ziva made her way silently back to the car, closing the door before it was even in their eyesight. Several things rang through her mind as her mouth joined in the small talk the McGees were supplying. _But their names are not McGee. They were adopted. Where are their real parents? And when was McGee—Tim, really born?_

And of course:

_ McGee drives too slow._

* * *

**above is my weak attempt at humor in a chapter that should really have had a little more inside it. sorry, my sister just came back from a field trip to greece and italy-i didn't get to go last year bcuz my health insurance doesn't cover those places, surprise surprise- and was busy telling us about how the pilor on the plane went "do any of you know about murphy's law?" (she raised her hand and started screaming she did-physicist's daughter) after they did a diagnostic on the plane, finding nothing wrong though the "right generator appears to be working--just not hard enough."**

**i'm rambling. anyway, i managed to re-write this puppy IN 20 MINUTES to try and meet my 5-o-clock deadline... **

**shist. 5:09.**

**PEACE~Tibki**


	6. Interrogation in a Graveyard What next?

**hi again. sorry for the late update, but its sunday and, despite it supposedly being a day of rest, i spent the whole day with my family since its also the last day of spring break. its currently 3 minutes until the time when i have to go to bed or else will miss my 6:00 am wakeup call via my loud-as-Hiroshima alarm clock. so im just slipping on to update real quick.**

**ok, major thing right here: as i wrote my last few chapters, i changed a lot of things, right? so of course, this one had to take a HUGE hit, and there may be discrepancies . if you notice any, please write me a PM or put it in a review (either ones good) so i can fix it.**

**disclaimer: DISCLAIMED.**

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October 31:

Gibbs arrived at NCIS at his usual time—0530 hours. Dani had fallen back to sleep in the car and it had taken some persuasion to get her on her feet so he could lead her to the more comfortable position on either Abby's futon or his chair.

Dani had just grunted in greeting when they entered the bullpen and found McGee behind his desk, looking over a collection of objects on top of it.

"There's a couch in the break room down the hall," he told her. She put her hands together like she was blessing him and dragged her feet through the halls. "Hey boss."

"McGee? What's all this?"

"Basic witch defenses," he replied. "Salt, hallowed ground—I got this from the Salem cemetery when I lived there," he picked up a jar of what definitely looked like dirt, "crosses, holy water, mistletoe, brass bells, religious candles… I'm trying to remember any others."

"Garlic?" he suggested.

McGee looked up at him, slightly hurt… until he saw that Gibbs wasn't smiling. He was at least a little serious. "Vampires aren't real, boss… well, at least, I've never seen any."

"And what have you seen?" The question was meant for two reasons: one to find out what he knew existed, and another to figure out just what he'd been through.

"Witches and zombies. That's it."

"Zombies?" Flashes of yesterday's conversation came to his mind. "We're going to do this in a cemetery and she can bring up zombies."

McGee shrugged. "The spell has to happen with someone she knew. Billy Bones was her boyfriend, until he cheated on her with her sister. She killed him and sewed his lips shut, then brought him back to life in '93. He stunk and his head kept falling off, but he was actually pretty nice and he helped us a lot. Let us use his grave for protection."

"So she's not going to bring up an army of them?" He shook his head. "Good. Last thing we need is DiNozzo starting with 'Attack of the Undead'." Despite everything, McGee grinned.

After a few minutes, he took the huge jar of salt and started toward the elevator. It opened just as he arrived, with Ziva inside.

"Good morning, McGee," she said. "You're here early."

He shrugged. "Making sure she doesn't try to storm NCIS," he explained. "Circle of salt protects everything inside it from witches, zombies, and old boyfriends."

"You might want to suggest Abby to carry some around." McGee chuckled, but went down the elevator. She went further inside and saw Gibbs sitting at his desk, sipping a cup of coffee.

"I thought spilling salt was bad luck."

"He would know better than us."

"Yes… especially with the age difference." He looked at her, eyebrows raised. "I over-heard Sarah and Tim talking last night, at the airport."

He shouldn't be surprised. Gibbs was thinking about asking her to spy anyway, and he had taught them to anticipate. "And?"

"I did not hear all of the conversation, just most of it." She propped a hip on his desk. "When I arrived, McGee was talking about how we would understand if he told us the entire story, though Tony would never let him live it down."

"You think he's gonna lie?" The didn't sound like McGee.

"No. He told Sarah that he could never lie to us—even if he wanted to. He knows he cannot lie, and…" She stopped, unsure if she should reveal something so personal.

"And?"

Oh, screw it, his was _Gibbs_.

"McGee said he could never lie, especially to you, because you remind him of his father—his _real_ father, not Commander McGee."

"He's adopted?" Gibbs said this with a certain degree of surprise. It hadn't been in his report, after all. Then again, breaking into his records wouldn't be so hard for a hacker of his experience.

"Apparently. I did not know, either. He also said that you'd be the right age… if he was born in 1977." That registered shock on Gibbs's face, and Ziva shook her head. "I could not tell that he was not 33, Gibbs," she admitted. "He looks like it—mostly—acts like it, and that is what we were told."

Gibbs nodded. He had all the information he needed now; they just had to piece it together so they could make sure that McGee didn't lie to them again.

Half of the day was spent at NCIS, preparing for what seemed like an impending battle. Abby recruited the entire sanitation department for help in "decorating for Christmas". They didn't dare ask why she was getting ready so soon. Normally, she would ignore the celebration at least until after her favorite holiday was over—Halloween, today.

But they didn't want to risk the wrath of Energizer Abby, so they hung the brass bells and mistletoe without complaint. Her name was enough explanation for any agent that asked, even people from human resources.

Dani took to the lab, setting up as many protection spells as she could manage with Alda's help. Once she had learned about the witches and the book, the wiccan had come in a matter of minutes to help the novice make sure that they could stay safe.

Several people had walked in on them circling around a symbol made of salt on the floor, then backed away slowly and told their superiors that they didn't want to be cursed.

The team ran over their plan of attack while the defenses went up. With only a small amount of hacking, McGee had a layout of Arlington cemetery onscreen, their battlefield.

"Ok, so this entire area here," he said, making a circle on the picture, "is considered hallowed ground. Winifred can't touch it or she turns to stone, but she can fly as close to the ground as she wants. That's where this'll go down."

"No zombies?" Tony asked, actually worried.

"She didn't know anyone buried there," he replied, "that's a requirement for the raise-the-dead spell."

"How do you know she didn't?" Ziva asked, curious. Sarah, who was sitting on the armrest of his chair, shrugged.

"You're gonna have to trust us, Agent David." The suspicion in her voice wasn't missed by any of them.

McGee rolled his eyes and waved her down. "Relax. Winifred Sanderson was born, raised, and died just outside of Salem Village. Lived there her whole life. And anyway, even if by some miracle someone she knew in life was buried here, I seriously doubt they'd do what she said."

Tony snorted. "McGoo. Have you _never_ seen a zombie movie? They don't care about _who's_ controlling them, they just do it. And the ones with no masters, all they want is their food. They're brainless, McGee, _brainless zombies._"

"Actually, Billy was a nice guy," Tim said evenly. "He stank pretty bad, though."

"Billy?" Ziva asked. Tony's mouth was on the floor. "Who is Billy?"

"Billy Bones was her boyfriend back in the 1600s," Sarah replied. "He cheated on her with her sister, she killed him and sewed his mouth shut, brought him back after 300 hundred years—it's a long story."

"This was him when he was alive," McGee told them, pulling up a painting of a black-haired man in a suit. "This was him in 1993."

A slightly grainy security image of the zombie version of him appeared onscreen, following what looked like 3 kids and a cat. "We passed a bank," he explained. "I had to get the tapes before someone started asking too many questions."

The entire rest of the day was spent setting up for that battle in a secluded section of Arlington cemetery.

This place was half forest, half graveyard, the oldest part of it, with graves going back to the Civil War before they started fading. For some reason, McGee always winced while passing those stones, and the college girls understood why he refused to dig near them, even if the team didn't.

Soon enough, Tony, Gibbs, and McGee were all digging holes 6 feet deep and wide enough to hold up to 5 people. Ziva was placing mistletoe and brass bells in certain places to ward her off. Dani was doing something with Abby that none of them knew how to explain, but involved most of the holy water and the crosses McGee had brought.

By the time they were finished, it was getting dark. Tony snuck into the groundskeeper's hut and changed the schedule so that he would go nowhere near it on patrol for the next few nights.

When he came back, he found the others looking at McGee, Sarah, and Dani. The interrogations were about to begin. Tony joined sides with Gibbs and Ziva.

"First question!" Abby called, raising her hand. McGee smiled, but shrugged and nodded. "Why is Winifred Sanderson after you? I mean, I know that you guys sent her back to hell and everything, but why is she going after Tim especially?"

"She thought I had the book," he replied, pointing to the thing lying in it's own hole. "Without it, she can't bring her sisters back to life and can't become young again. Normally, I _would've_ had it, but it was part of a museum exhibit and people would notice if it went missing."

"Then why bring it here?"

Gibbs answered her question for them. "Abs, they needed bait. She's going to come where the book is, and here we can be prepared." Dani nodded.

"Same thinking last time," she added.

"What did happen back then?" Tony asked. "Never got the full picture here."

Sarah took over. "On Halloween 17 years ago, Dani's older brother Max convinced his future wife Allison and Dani to go to the Sanderson sisters' house. Dani didn't want to go because she was a scaredy cat…"

"I was not! I had a bad feeling about that place!"

"Long story short," McGee interrupted, glaring at both of them, "A virgin lit the black flame candle—Max—and brought the three sisters back from the dead. They barely escaped, especially after they found Dani's hiding place. I, uh, _bumped_ into Max on his way out after he set off the sprinklers—the whole witch-melting-in-water thing is a myth by the way."

"Now what'm I supposed to do with the bucket I brought?" Tony whined. Gibbs whacked him, rolling his eyes.

"Anyway," McGee continued, "it was my job since I was a kid to guard the cottage and make sure no one brought them back—obviously, I didn't do too great a job with these three. For the rest of the night we ran around Salem trying to escape or kill them, since Max had Winifred's book and they could only live until sunrise on the 1st. We tried to warn the adults in the town, but they got caught under a spell set by them and couldn't help at all."

"Hard to fight witches when you're dancing the night away," Dani mumbled.

"We managed to trap them in the kiln at the high school and burn them," he went on, "and we thought for a few hours that they were gone."

"But they weren't." Ziva added.

McGee nodded. "They came back and, after a few run-ins with a guy dressed up as a devil, a bus, and a kid dressed up like an angel, they found us because Max and Allison opened the book in his bedroom and lit up the house like a beacon for them."

"Aw, cut 'em some slack, Tim, we were just trying to help you!" Dani protested.

"Well, they couldn't help me like _that!_"

"Why did you need help?" Tony asked. "Did the big bad witches give you a big bad boo-boo, Timmy?"

All 3 people froze at the remark. "Uh…" Sarah looked up at Tim, "different, longer story."

"Much longer," McGee murmured. "Anyway, what happened to me isn't important, but what is, is that we ran to a graveyard—hollowed ground—where Winifred had already brought her ex-boyfriend back to life…"

"Billy Bones," Dani told them. "He was pretty nice, especially for a zombie. He kept losing his head, though."

"Literally," Sarah added, drawing her finger over her neck.

"Yeah, he let us use his grave to protect Dani, Dani went out to help Billy get his head back, Winifred got her and took her a few feet off the ground—they were on brooms—I went after the bottle, she threw me against a headstone, Max grabbed the potion and drank it, Winifred went after him, Billy, Dani, and Allison took care of the other two and sent Winifred to the ground." Tim paused to catch his breath. "Winifred was about to kill Max when she started turning to stone…"

"Hallowed ground?" Abby wondered. McGee nodded.

"Then exploded with her sisters when the sun came up," he finished. "Did I forget anything?"

"What happened to you?" Gibbs asked. "You said you hit a gravestone. Then what?"

"Er…" he swallowed. "I, uh, died, but when the witches died, I got brought back and so did Em—Sarah, who died earlier."

"You two… were dead?" Ziva asked.

"…In a way, yeah. 'Dead' implies forever, and I didn't die… forever. Just a while," Sarah explained.

Ziva glanced at Gibbs, who nodded. It was time to lay down the big mackerel. "And _just_ how old were you when this happened?" she asked McGee.

The way he jumped at the question would've been noticeable to a blind man. "I, um, 16, remember? I crashed my car the same year." _Technically not a lie, he still felt 16._

"So you're 33 now, correct?" she prodded. He swallowed. "Are you?"

"I, uh…" He sighed, resigned. "No, I'm not." McGee's head dropped so they were talking to the top of his head.

"You were not born in 1977?"

"No, I wasn't."

"How old are you?" Abby asked, shocked. Had her Timmy _lied_ to her? "You told me you're older than I am!"

"I… I am."

"How much?" Tim looked away. "_How old are you, Timmy?"_

"I'm older than you," he replied, "I won't tell you my real age."

"Than what can you tell us?" Tony asked. "You're not some crotchety old man underneath that mask, are you, Probie?"

"There's no mask," he replied. "I… " He looked around at the last remaining member of his original family, and the family who'd brought him out of a shell he'd hidden behind for years. _Which one should I give up?_

"I'm the oldest person here," he finally decided. He met Gibbs's eyes to make sure that he could tell he wasn't lying. "I… I'm older than you, boss."

"How much?" Tony asked, shocked.

Dani mumbled something that suspiciously sounded like a number beginning with three.

"I…" McGee shook his head, backing up. "Can you excuse me a minute?" he asked, running toward the woods before they could answer.

"Oh, nice going." Sarah glared at them. "You _had_ to spy on us, didn't you, David?" she demanded of the Israeli. "Now look what you did! As if he didn't have to go through enough right now."

With that, she ran after her brother.

"Poor Tim," Dani said, shaking her head. "I'm going to go check on the holes. Call them back when the sun goes down, ok?"

"Probie?" Tony said, barely even hearing her, "Older than Gibbs? How is that even possible?"

"Plastic surgery," Ziva replied. "But I cannot imagine Tim doing that." She looked at Gibbs guiltily. "Gibbs, this is my fault, I was eavesdropping on them…"

Abby shook her head. "No, Z," she said fiercely. They looked at her, surprised. "McGee may not have been lying to us, but he still didn't tell the whole truth. If you ask me, this is what he gets for not doing what a real friend should do: _bare_ their _soul_."

Three seconds later, however, the tough exterior melted.

"Oh, who am I kidding? I can't be mad at Timmy! Besides, he probably had a great reason for not telling us, right? Can I go talk to them? Please, Gibbs?"

Gibbs knew that she would be able to bring him around best of any of them, but he also knew that he needed his privacy for a while. "10 minutes, Abs, then go."

She nodded eagerly, setting her skull-and-crossbones watch.

* * *

**ok. remember how i said this thing _might_ be long? turns out i might be very, very wrong about that, or at least, it could end up as long compared to my other stories, which could be anything seeing as my only other NCIS story is a oneshot and the other one... that was a plotbunny with no tail (end). there might only be one or two chapters left, maybe 3. the end if definitely near, my friends. i can smell it.**

**oh. that's just my dog's latest natural chewtoy (DON'T ASK, THE EXPLANATION DOESNT EVEN BELONG IN A T STORY.)**

**PEACE~Tibki**


	7. Siblings at a Skyline as Sandersons fly

**hi, gotta make this quick cuz my day starts in literally like 12 minutes and if i'm late my mom and sisters will kill me. last chapter the team found out that McGee is "older than Gibbs". here he and Sarah have a little heart-to-heart and then there's a little teaser**

* * *

"Thackery?" Sarah called, once she was out of earshot. "Thack, where are you?"

Eventually, she found him sitting against an old, dual grave that was perched precariously over a man-made cliff. Below she could see the glory of Washington D.C. Above was one of the most beautiful sunsets a person could find that close to a large city: half of the sky was pink with the setting sun, and half was dark blue with twilight, with several stars visible. Tim was currently staring at them.

Sarah shook her head and dropped next to him. "Hey Thack," she said. "You ok?"

"No," he admitted. "And the name's Tim, Emily—I mean, Sarah."

"Not here," she insisted. "We're alone, back in the woods like we used to be. Remember all the times we used to race each other on the deer paths?" He smiled at the memory.

"'Course. You'd always pretend you were the Indian Princess Pocahontas."

"And you were John Smith with your big gun and metal helmet."

"You'd climb a tree to try and hide…"

"But you'd always find me…"

"Until the time that tree fell…"

"And you had to dig me out from under it. Then I'd try to give you a kiss for saving me and you'd…"

"Threaten to throw you in the pig sty at home if you got too close!" Both siblings burst into laughter, watching the growing number of stars. "Life was so much easier back then," McGee said. "And you could always see every star, no matter where you went."

"Even in…"

"New York," they both said. "Hey, Emily?" her brother asked.

"Yeah, Thack?"

"What's heaven like?"

She hesitated. "Thackery, you know I don't remember a lot of it."

"You were there for 300 years, you must remember _something_." She shrugged. "I remember every moment," he told her. "Every minute of living like something that people feared so much they'd kill it without a second thought. Every minute of worrying when someone would get enough courage to light that stupid candle." He turned to her. "You can't tell me it's just a big blank to you."

She shook her head slowly. "N-no…" She looked up. "All I remember is music… light… feeling like I could _fly_…" She smiled, closing her eyes. "I could always feel the sun on my face… and Mother and Father, and Elijah and everyone I knew were there… eventually… except for you." She turned to him. "I remember looking down, Thack… and feeling so sorry for you… because you stuck down there while the rest of us were having such a good time…" She smiled wanly. "I think we were the only people to ever cry in heaven."

"Do you miss it?" he wondered. "Would you go back?"

"Thackery Binx, what sort of a question is that?" she asked, slapping his arm. "Yes, of course I miss Mother and Father and everyone else, but I won't leave Earth without you this time. I won't wait any longer. I won't cry anymore in heaven, Thack, it's unnatural."

"What part about us is natural?" he had to ask, smirking. She had to admit he had a point. He sighed and looked down at the city. "But now… Emily, I can't _not_ die anymore. Eventually, I will go … but as much as I miss everyone, I want to live out my life here, with NCIS. What's keeping you here?"

"You, silly."

"But I'll come eventually… either up or down, that is."

"Trust me, if you go down, I won't leave St. Peter alone until he brings you up," she promised. "And you could come at anytime. It could be tomorrow; it could be 50 years from now. I waited 300 years to see you, to talk to you again, Thackery. I'm not leaving until you do."

She crossed her arms stubbornly. McGee smiled and put his around her. "Alright. But you've got to promise me—if I go before you do, tell Mom and Dad the truth before you do. I want them to know that we're alright."

"I promise… even though they'll lock me in an asylum."

Her brother chuckled, and for the next few minute, they just looked at the stars—the same ones they'd watched from their thatched roof all those years ago—and fell asleep.

Which was how Abby found them when she came to check on them. Sarah was sleeping peacefully, her head on her brother's shoulder. Tim was snoring like a chainsaw, leaning back against a large gravestone with 2 names carved on it:

_Here lye the bodys of William and Theresa Binx._

"Tim? Tim, wake up. The sun's down, it's time to wake up."

McGee pulled away. _No, leave me be… mother, father…_

"Mother?" Abby repeated, pulling away for a second. "Ok, Timmy, either you're _really_ old or you're British. But come on, you've gotta get up, Winifred's on her way."

The name of the witch had him away in less than a second. McGee sat up, his hand going to the gun on his waist, eyes wide. "Winifred," he breathed, looking around.

The sun was still setting. Slowly, rays of sunlight disappeared in favor of the quieter beauty of the stars. Tim found himself staring at them for a second before he shook his head and looked back down.

Sarah was running back toward the graveyard through the woods. Abby knelt and helped Tim to his feet. "We were worried there for a sec," she said sternly. "You were dead to this world, Timmy."

She could've sworn he _laughed_ right there. "Don't worry, Abs, I'm still alive," he assured her. "Now c'mon, we've gotta prepare."

Before she could protest, he had her by the hand and was pulling her through the forest with him. By the time she could protest, she didn't really want to.

- - - - -

Someone once said that the worst part about a battle is the time just before the other side attacks, when the ones fighting start imagining what could happen. During the battle is hard, but there are things to focus on, like surviving. During a rare pause in combat, the soldiers don't have time to imagine when they're rushing wounded to safe distances on their side and pulling dead back so that they would be able to be buried. After the battle, they've already known what happened and can thank God that what had gone through their minds before didn't happen.

But before is the worst. This is when the human mind travels through all the evils the human race can do to itself, and when a single person can't help but wonder how they're going to die in combat. And though they despise the idea, most minds linger on slow and painful.

As NCIS agents—and, in one case, a Salem PD police officer—they were mostly used to the before-battle lull. But Abby, Allison, and Dani weren't.

Especially Abby.

Currently, she was pacing around the two holes they'd dug, wringing her hands and almost literally making a rut in the ground. Combat boots can do that.

"What if she brings back everyone in this cemetery?" she asked. "You said she brought back her boyfriend, what's stopping her from bringing back all these people?"

"She doesn't know them," McGee replied, growing tired of all the zombie talk. "She knew Billy and that's a must in the bring-back-to-life spell." Everyone turned to him. "I got bored watching an empty cottage all those years," he shrugged. "I read the book."

"You _read_ it?" Dani asked, shocked.

"Yeah, and trust me, that potion Max drank back in '93 is _nothing_ compared to what some of the things in there are made of—heck, what they _do._"

"How?" Sarah asked, trying to imagine a cat flipping pages of a spell book.

"Wasn't easy, trust me," he replied. "Calm down, Abs, she won't bring up an army of zombies. Besides, they wouldn't hurt people trying to save kids."

"But what if she gets the book? What if she does it? What if…?" With every question she grew even more hysterical.

"Abby!" the team all yelled at once.

"You can't focus on the what ifs," Ziva said. "What will happen will happen. If the worst is what does, we shall simply keep fighting back with everything in our power, yes?"

"One thing we can't do it give up," Tony nodded.

Abby spun around, looking Gibbs directly in the eye. "Tell me that everything's going to alright," she ordered him.

"Can't do that, Abs," he said, trying to make her see reason.

"But you have to!" she insisted. "If you say it then it definitely be alright, because your always right, Gibbs, you always know when my lab's got something, or when Ducky does!" She hugged him tight. "I don't want to lose you—any of you! If one of you gets hurt, I'll never be able to…"

A pair of hands pulled her away from Gibbs. Abby found herself looking into a pair of green eyes, stern but warm and worried at the same time.

"Abby," McGee said, knowing he had her attention. "Stop thinking about the ifs. If that's all you do, you won't survive, and _that's_ a promise. Focus on what you have to do _now_, and if there's nothing, just go over the defenses in your head, ok?"

"But…"

"No buts," he interrupted. "Look… take me for example. If all I did was focus on the 'if's—what if I hadn't stopped to talk to a friend of mine, what if I had paid more attention when my Father was telling me how to use a gun, what if I had _thought_ to bring a gun—I would've given up a long time ago and we never would've met. Trust me, you don't want to think about those things. They're like a MOAS, Abs. They'll eat you from the inside out. You understand?" Abby nodded, her eyes wide. "Good." McGee let go of her shoulders and backed off, sitting back down against a Civil War headstone. He shut his eyes to the others' stares, leaning his head back.

"Whoa." Tony managed. "Never thought I'd see McGee do anything like that."

"The Sanderson sisters bring out a side of Tim people can live their entire lives without seeing," Sarah explained. "Winifred the most."

Another 5 minutes passed and finally, the sun disappeared. Dani and Sarahwere moved into the hole with the book. Abby called for a second to wake McGee from his resting place on the headstone.

"Tim?" she asked, shaking him gently. "Tim, wake up, it's… well, I can't say it's sunset, cuz it's been setting for like 20minutes, but… it's twilight. Wake up, Mcgee."

McGee blinked his eyes open and groaned. "Nice dream?" He nodded. "What was it?"

"I was back at home…" he replied, "My real home, with Mother and Father, except Mom and Dad—the McGees—and you guys and all the friends I had over the years were there. No one had ever heard of the Sanderson sisters." He chuckled. "I guess I was dreaming about heaven."

"Well, time for you to come out of heaven," she said, smiling apologetically. "The witch is on her way."

McGee stood immediately. "The book in the hole?" he asked. Abby nodded. "Why aren't you with it?"

"Because," she replied. "Two things. First," Abby pulled him into a massive hug. "I know you won't promise that you'll all be ok, but try not to die, ok?"

"I'll do my best. Second?"

"Second," she looked up at him. "I'm sorry about earlier. You were right, I shouldn't've freaked out…"

McGee put a finger to her mouth. "Wouldn't be you if you didn't," he assured her. "Sorry about yelling at you."

"I'll forgive you if you forgive me."

"Done."

Tim led her over to the hole, helping her down. "Just like last time, right?" Dani asked him.

"Yep," he smiled, "except no crawling out to help zombies this time, you hear me?"

Gibbs, Ziva, Tony, and McGee all piled into the other hole, to the north of the first. It was basic planning: the ones with weapons are in front and act as a barrier between the opponent and the target. Dani was given Gibbs's back-up Beretta at McGee's insistence, and everyone else various weapons from random hiding places on Ziva's person.

When Dani asked if she had a license for all of those, she simply snorted. "You can't make a ninja get a weapons license," Tony explained, "They can make one out of anything. Credit cards, paperclips…"

"Plastic spoons are a favorite of mine," Ziva added.

A few more hours passed with no one in sight. No one dared to move, barely to breathe, as time went on. The slim chance that Winifred might actually not find them by sunup made its presence known as time edged on.

At about 0430 hours—roughly half an hour until sunrise—their hopes were dashed.

_"Boooooooook!"_

Abby nearly screamed as the thing squirmed in her hands. Dani and Sarah helped her hold it down. High above and to the north of them, a vague figure of a woman on a vacuum flew across the moon.

* * *

**yeah, i know, i'm horrible with my cliffhangers. i'll do another chapter tomorrow if i'm not swamped with homework, as some teachers love to do after a week off, and then i think there'll only be one or two more after that. can't guess, since i'm re-writing as i go.**

**PEACE~Tibki**


	8. Holes, Vacuums, and Guns don't mix

**hi. long story today, but it is the climax. definite action in here, which could explain the length, but i can't promise about how well it's written. not gonna bother you anymore, just read on:**

**disclaimer~ chalk another one up. i no own this. well, i own _this_, as in the story, but not the characters or the shows they come from. we clear? good.**

* * *

The light of the round, yellow, full moon glinted on the rounded edges of the Beretta Dani was holding in her hand, positioned just so over the edge of her, Abby's, and Sarah's hole. It was all very dramatic, like something from an old black-and-white cop movie.

The 4 SIG Sauers that were aimed over the edge of the other hole didn't reflect the moon's light, but simply knowing they were there, lined up like a regiment of Civil War soldiers, was good enough for everyone there.

"Don't' shoot until we're sure she knows we're here," Gibbs hissed.

"She knows," McGee replied in a whisper, despite his words. "She can tell."

_"Booooooooooook!"_ Winifred sang, lowering her vacuum until she was in sight of the team. "What is this, _another_ graveyard?" she wondered, looking around. "Dost thee possess any shred of imagination?"

No one answered her, clutching to the final hope that she hadn't seen or heard them yet. Any idea that thought would keep disappeared as a yellow light exploded from the hole containing the girls and the book.

"$#!^, they couldn't keep the book shut!" McGee swore. "Shoot the cleaner!"

More than 15 bullets embedded themselves into the vacuum, the trees nearby, and the witch herself. The trees had very little damage done to them—they were surprised that some of the bullets had actually not hit the targets, the shooters _were_ experienced agents, after all—but the vacuum whined dangerously as the bits of metal rattled around inside.

"'Tis thy voice I hear, Binx?" she called aloud, agitated. She didn't want to waste her last night on the Earth chasing after some kid. "Come from thy hole and fight like a man, if thee dare, not like the kitty thou art!"

To the team's surprise, the jibe made McGee clutch his gun tighter in anger. "Mew, mew, mew," she teased. "Here kitty! Here cat, cat, cat!"

"Better a cat than a cowardly, boil-ridden pox-covered hag like thee!"

McGee dropped his gun and covered his mouth, his eyes wide. _What the #3!! had happened to his voice?_ He sounded like he had at age 16—from the 1600s. He even had his accent back.

"McGee?" Ziva asked, surprised. "Are you feeling alright?" He bit his lip, confused, picking his gun back up.

"Ah, reverting back to thy natural dialect, art thou scared, ye mangy feline?"

"Scared of you? No!" he shouted back in his normal voice, his face turning red. "Scared of the shards that fly when thee lookst into a glass, yes!" He froze, horrified. "Oh God. What's happening?" he asked, more to himself than the others.

"Maybe she's putting a spell on you," Ziva suggested.

"So he talks like some kid from her time?" Tony asked in reply. "What kind of lame comeback is that?"

Gibbs just raised an eyebrow at his agent. "Sh-shutting up now, boss," he said carefully. The ex-Marine nodded.

"My time here is limited," the witch preached, "return my book to me and I shall consider leaving thee to live!"

"While you use it to kill thousands of children?" Ziva shouted back. "Not going to happen!"

"All for a good cause, I assure thee," she said to the side, "after all, I simply cannot watch as my face crumples with age. 'Tis a small price to pay, for youth."

"Just get some face cream and get on with life, lady!" Tony called.

"Enough of this," she huffed. "_Booooooooooook!"_

Both Sarah and Abby screamed as the book literally lifted them from the hole. Dani grabbed at their ankles but missed by a quarter of an inch.

"Tiiiiiiiiiiiiiim!"

"Giiiiiiiiiiiibbs!"

"Abby!" Gibbs and Tony yell, jumping from their hole.

"Emily!" Tim hollered, in his other voice, hot on their heels. Gibbs and Tony gave him cover fire, hitting her in the chest several times. She went back an inch with ever hit, like something in an action movie.

McGee dove and took hold of the disgusting spellbook, swinging in the air between two out of the three women in his life. It sank with the added weight, not stopping until they touched the safety of the ground again.

"Aaaaaah!" the oldest Sanderson shrieked, clutching at the holes in her robes. "Thou hast shot me! I am dying, I die…!"

Dani lowered Gibbs' gun and climbed from the hole as she grew closer and closer to the ground. Ziva clambered out of the other one, her own never leaving the witch's head, just like the rest of the teams'. The first lesson in combat: it's never over until the fat lady sings.

And she was silent.

Just an inch before touching the soil, Winifred Sanderson looked up, grinning like the Cheshire cat. "Psych!" she screeched, gripping the handle and flying back upwards, higher than the tallest branch on the trees nearby. "Book, come to me!"

Abby let go of the thing in surprise as it was yanked towards the witch; The McGee siblings didn't and went for a ride into the air. The book stopped at her open hand.

Winifred put the volume under her arm and lifted both McGee and Sarah by the neck.

"Oh," she crooned, ignoring their gasps for breath, "My two last, incomplete masterpieces. Thackery and Emily Binx. My first victim and her elder brother… thou hast been un-transformed, Thackery. There is a distinct lack of black fur on thy back."

"I… found it," he managed through her chokehold, glaring at her. "It grows, just there, on thy upper lip." Sarah would've laughed if she could; all she could manage was a snicker and a grin.

She screeched at the insult, throwing him onto the ground below. "Thy insolence shall be thy downfall, Thackery Binx, just as 'twas 300 years ago!" she bellowed at him.

The team froze. _What?_

"Let's show thy friends what thy really are!"

McGee went back a step, but this time, there was no lightning. Her hand motioned toward him, and he fell to the ground in pain.

Abby screamed, trying to run to her friend, but Dani held her back. McGee's only recently cut hair doubled in length, sweeping back from his head. His bones cracked aloud as they compacted and grew smaller, shrinking him from his 6'2" original height to 5'11". There was a flash of light, and his work clothes disappeared, changed into a loose cotton shirt and breeches… matching Tony's outfit.

He stopped howling, gasping for breath on the grass. Thackery Binx groaned, getting to his feet slowly. Everyone was staring at him.

Binx looked down at himself, then back up at the witch, glaring. "Dost thee think this changes anything?" he demanded. "Simply because thee have made me 16 for the third time in my life, and that thee have put me in nightclothes, thou assume I shall give up? Put Emily down, or I shall…"

"Or thou shall what?" she barked, screeching in laughter. "Shake thy rattle at me? Oh, I quake in my boots!"

Thackery turned a surprising shade of red and lifted the SIG Sauer he still held, barely aiming when he shot her between the eyes.

The hit should have killed the woman, but this was a witch on Halloween—she couldn't die by mortal means. Even if it was a perfectly aimed shot to the forehead.

That didn't mean it didn't hurt like all #3!!.

Winifred Sanderson shrieked in pain, reeling backwards. The vacuum moved further and further over the woods, towards the old double grave and oak overlooking the city.

Thackery ran after his sister without hesitation; the team stared for a second before going after him, the thought still ringing in their minds: _McGee is Binx?_

High above the graves of their parents, Sarah hung from the witch's grasp. Thackery stood on the grave, glaring up at the woman, who was far out of his reach. Winifred had her book out, frantically looking for… something.

"Give it up, you old spinster!" Thackery yelled. "The sun shall rise in but minutes, thy have no chance of being able to live past it!"

"If I must return to hell, I shall not leave without knowing that thee were punished for thy insolence!" she spat. "How would thy and thy sister like to spend eternity, as frogs, toads, mice? I am not picky. Cats art a classic, and I think that Emily would make a beautiful tortoiseshell, as thy once made a black!"

He couldn't do anything from the ground. His gun was out of bullets and they were literally hundreds of feet above his head. "Thee challenged me to fight like a man, art thou so cowardly as not to do so thyself?"

"Nay," she returned, "I am a woman, not a man, imbecile!"

"Thee fooled me and fooled Billy Bones! Art thou sure?" Winifred growled and aimed a hand at Thackery again. He dove, using his parents' graves as a shield from her magic.

"No…!" Sarah gasped, using the last of her strength. She raised one fist and managed to punch her captor hard enough to send them both flying off the makeshift broom. The book went flying… and the women started falling.

"Thackeryyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!" she screamed, clawing at the air, that one word being drowned out by Winifred's own shriek.

The Sanderson sister hit the ground with a thud more than worthy of Abby's platform boots. For a moment, all was still, until the team and Dani appeared at the edge of the treeline.

The witch growled and stood, looking murderous. Her beady little eyes scanned the cliff for Binx, so she could exact her revenge, until they found… the book.

It was lying inches from the edge of the crag, the human eye wide and searching for her. She lifted her skirts and ran for it, cackling in laughter as she lifted it over her head.

"Yes!" she said. "I have succeeded! You have failed!" she cried, pointing at the group.

Instead of answering, Dani pointed at the headstone in front of her. Winifred looked down with an "Eh?" that made her smile. Her cry of victory quickly turned into one of horror as a stone curse made its way up her feet.

"Biiiiiiiiinx!" she yelled, still clutching her book. A ray of orange light hit the cliff as the sun rose… on November 1st.

The audience shielded their eyes as the statue of Winifred Sanderson exploded in a shower of green sparks that belonged in a 4th of July show.

"She's gone!" Dani squealed. "She's dead, she's gone, and she took the book with her, there's no way she can come…!"

Abby put a hand on her shoulder. "What?" she asked, looking up at the grieving face of the Goth. "What's wrong?"

The forensic scientist silently pointed to their left, toward the gravesite where the Binxes were buried, and where…

Thackery was kneeling over the still body of his little sister.

The joy on Dani's face slid off so quickly it would've been funny—had anyone been in a laughing mood. Gibbs went up to his oldest/youngest agent, kneeling next to him at Sarah's side. Thackery was crying, holding his sister's face on one hand and her's to his chest with the other.

"Please, Emily, don't leave me," he prayed quietly, "It isn't thy time, thou have so much of thy life to live _yet_… don't leave me here alone, Emily, you promised…"

The others came up behind him just in time t hear the rest of his pleas. "You promised, Emily, right here, just hours ago," he cried, as if trying to remind her. "You said that thou wouldn't… wouldn't leave Earth without me again. That thy wouldn't cry in heaven. 'Tis unnatural, you said. _Why art thou not keeping thy promise?_"

Gibbs put a hand on his shoulder, startling the boy—_man_, he reminded himself. The same green eyes that had once looked at him with nothing but respect and sometimes awe now stared at him like he was an alien.

"Tim…"

The green orbs turned murderous. "No!" he yelled, standing. "Do not call me that _lie_, Gibbs! My name is Thackery Binx, Thackery William Binx, not that… _Timothy McGee!"_ He backed away from their shocked faces, tears running down his own. "Just—just as hers was not Sarah, 'twas Emily! Emily, from the Latin word for 'eager', her middle name Theresa, after our mother, who is buried there, with out father!" He backed up again, pushing himself against the tree and sliding down it. "Why dost she continue leaving me?" he begged. "Why do I continue failing to protect her? First the cottage—now here, again! I can't keep life on, like this!"

"McGee…" Tony began.

"Why do thy never listen?" he roared. "What did I just say? _My name is not Timothy McGee!_ It is Thackery Binx! _Thackery Binx_! I was born November 15th, 1677 to William Isaac Binx and Theresa Vivienne Binx! My best friend is—_was_, Elijah Thomas Smith, who took over his father's smith when he became of age!" He angrily wiped his tears away. "I never became of age! I could only watch as my friends grew old, had children and died, then continue as the cycle repeated itself for _300 years!_ The fifteenth will be my _333__rd_birthday! Dost that sound akin to something _Timothy McGee_ would do, akin to _Timothy McGee's_ life?" Thackery buried his head in his arms. "O God, Emily, not again!"

Abby tried this time, walking carefully around Sarah's body to him. She sat down next to the boy, her own tears making black mascara lines down her face. "Ti—I mean, Thackery?" she asked quietly, "Thackery, could I… give you a hug?"

He looked up, his eyes wide, red, and still full of tears. "I…" He cleared his throat, "I would like that, Abby."

She opened her arms and let the 16-year-old version of her ex-boyfriend and current best friend collapse into them.

"Thackery!" a young girl's voice sang from the woods beside them. "Thackery Bi-inx! Where art thou?"

Thackery's head shot up, looking around frantically. He stood faster than the others could see, his head turning around several times. "Emily?" he demanded. "Emily, where art thou?"

A girl about 6 years old, semi-transparent in a light cotton nightgown, giggled from behind a tree. "Stop crying, Thackery, else thy friends discover the wimp thy really are!"

"Emily!" he yelped, running and picking her up. She shrieked in laughter as he spun her around in the air several times, finally pulling her tight.

"O God, Emily, I had thought I'd lost thee!"

She stopped smiling and pulled away a fraction. Looking at him sternly. "Thackery," she said, "look at me. I am not here to stay, only to say a final farewell." Her older brother's face dropped. "I am sorry, Thackery, I wish I could stay, but…"

"Once we're brought back once, we don't get a second chance," he nodded sadly. "Yes, I remember, You told me the first week thou returned, after the Commander adopted us." He smiled, pulling her into another hug. "Thank you for coming back, if for a while."

"Well, of course. I couldn't just leave and not tell thee why I had to break my promise," she assured him. "But," she added, "if I hear of thee blaming thyself again for this, I shall return only to slap thee silly, got it?" Emily held up a hand as he opened his mouth. "I do not want to hear it, Thackery Binx. Remember, apologies are signs of weakness, and thou art a federal agent. Thee cannot afford to appear weak." She winked. "Rule number four, yes?"

He smiled. "Yes… rule four." Thackery looked over his shoulder at his friends, who were standing up, looking at him. "Oh, crap. I'm done for."

"What?"

"I yelled at Gibbs," he winced. "I yelled at Tony and I told them my real age. I am dead."

Emily rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically. "No, thou art not dead, thou art in for a barrage of questions no mortal has ever had to endure in their life," she corrected. "Now listen, Thack, I don't have much time before…"

"When?" he asked, straightening.

Emily pointed to the still-rising sun. "When it's clear of the horizon, I'm gone," she replied.

Thackery bit his lip. Slowly, he pulled the cross he wore around his neck off, collecting the gold chain in a thread and handing it to his little sister. "Consider this a promise," he told her, "that sooner or later, someday, I will go and meet thee and everyone else up there."

Emily looked down at the dented, bent, misshaped gold bar, with a piece of splintered cherry wood inlaid at the top, forming the cross. He'd had it since he was 10, when he and his friend Elijah had…"Thackery," she whispered. "I can't take this, this is…"

"I know," he interrupted. "But it will be in safer hands with thou then with me."

Emily eyed her brother for a moment, then shook her head. She dropped the cross, holding it by the chain, and put it back around his neck. "I shall take the promise," she told him, "and hold it to thee, but I don't require thee to give up the only thing thy will have left of thy former life." She looked up at the sun. "My time is running out," she said sadly. "I love thee, thou big wimp."

"I—I love thee too."

She looked up at her brother, smiling. "It shall be hard playing Pocahontas without John Smith."

Thackery smiled, kneeling into a hug again. "Thou shall have to dig thyself out from under the tree this time."

Emily pulled back and wiped a stray tear off her brother's face. "Thackery?"

"Yes, Emily?"

"If thy wanted to know the truth…" She grinned. "I have always hated thy name. 'Thackery' is just so 1620s. Thou really art a Timothy to me, and to all these people."

Thackery smiled. "Thou never seemed like an Emily to I either," he replied. "Just don't tell mother and father."

"Art thou kidding? They would somehow manage to kill me _in heaven!"_ She pulled away from her brother for the last time. "Goodbye, Tim. Tell Mom and Dad I love them."

"Will do, Sarah," he said, shamelessly brushing a final tear out of the way as she disappeared into the risen sun.

"Agent Gibbs!" she called from the light. The team looked up at her, surprised. "Take care of my brother!"

He nodded curtly.

Just before the gates started swinging, the team all swore they saw a certain familiar dark-haired woman smile and wave, before taking Emily's hand and walking off.

There was a massive flash of light, and the gates disappeared.

* * *

**no, this is not the end. there are still a few more chapters left. i'm going to milk this idea for all its worth, until its bone dry.**

**tell me whatcha think!**

**PEACE~ Tibki**


	9. Epilogue: Two Funerals, One Family

**last chapter alert! this is technically an epilogue. i'm not going to keep you from the story more than i have to, so:**

**DISCLAIMED**

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3 days later, the word 'Binx' appeared twice in the daily paper's obituaries. Once for Janice Binxson, 9 years old, whose cause of death wasn't listed though her killer had died in an explosion at Arlington. The second one for Sarah Emily McGee-Binx, age 24.

Both their funerals were held next to each other. Janice's entire soccer team came to place flowers on the small casket, and to pay their respects for the investigator's sister, who'd died at the same place and time that their teammates' killer had.

The McGees had understood when their eldest son had finally admitted their real last name, only to be able to put it in the paper under a death notice. They'd also understood when he changed his legal name.

The entire NCIS MCRT came to the funeral, as did Danielle Dennison and her brother Max, her sister-in-law Allison, and her niece Emily. She was given civilian honors for sacrificing herself for her brother and the team he belonged to.

The only person missing was Sarah McGee-Binx's older brother, Timothy _Thackery_ McGee-Binx, who had disappeared the day before after saying something about a suitcase in his old place.

Just as the line of people laying roses on Sarah's coffin ended, he made it to the end, breathless and holding onto a small bundle of brown cloth and a rusty steel helmet.

The men hired to lower the coffin were stopped so he could have a final word, by a certain ex-Marine, who sort of scared them both after the younger tried to protest.

Ok, not sort of. He _did_ scare them.

"Almost didn't make it," he breathed. "Flights to Salem were delayed because of a storm. It'd be kinda hard to play without these, huh Sar?" McGee laid the Pocahontas costume and the John Smith helmet on the wood. "Just hold onto that for me for now. I'll get it back when I see you again, promise."

A breeze gently shook the trees surrounding them, bringing a noise that sounded suspiciously like a girl's giggle to the NCIS team. _"I'll hold you to that."_ McGee wasn't sure if he was imagining it, or if he actually heard it, but that was definitely Sarah's voice. _"Love ya, big bro."_

McGee swallowed, fighting back a single tear. "Love ya too," he whispered, standing again.

Both funerals ended at the same time, but the procession coming from Sarah McGee-Binx's, headed by Abby, Gibbs, and McGee, filled the air with jazz music.

The same song she'd played at Kate's.

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**couldn't resist putting that last part in.**

**by the way, dreameralways has brought up an excellent point in a review, if you've read it. i actually took some liberties for the first case: McGee doesn't want to disturb the graves of Civil War soldiers because it was the first MAJOR war after the Revolutionary, which he'd had to live through and see firsthand. anyone who'd had to watch-or hear rumors of, there were no battles north of the Carolinas- the descendants of families that were once united to fight off England tear themselves apart would want to respect those who died. couldn't've helped that it was the bloodiest war in American history either.**

**as for the Arlington situation, the National Cemetery was actually established on what used to be Robert E. Lee's land during the Civil War. since the Binxes lived 200 years before it, they were buried just outside of what would turn out to be the Army and Air Force's main cemetery without ever knowing it.**

**hope that clears things up.**

**thank you to EVERYONE who reviewed and favorite and alerted and all that good stuff, i 3 you all.**

**this is the end of the world as we know it, and i feel ok, really. (longest A/N ever, sorry!)**

**PEACE~Tibki**


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